twenty-two: in which she asks and receives

"'Cause I don't wanna fall in love, if you don't wanna try" –Jessie Ware, Say You Love Me (Alex Adair Remix)

********************************

"Patrón and pineapple juice?" said Kira, looking shocked. She motioned for the bartender to make her the same. "Wow, M. I've taught you well."

I had to laugh. "I finally realized that one shot won't hurt anybody. When will you realize the same?"

She rolled her eyes at me. "If I wanted to go bar-hopping with my grandmother, I'd fly on over to Hawaii and visit her. Getting drunk is just part of my flawed existence, sweetheart."

"Well, we're not bar-hopping," I told her, downing the shot. The bittersweet taste was electrifying. "Velocity's it for tonight."

"The band sucks tonight," Kira pointed out as we headed for an empty table, nodding at the quartet of reedy teenagers doing a passable cover of Arctic Monkeys' Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High. "Where do they find these guys?"

"Craigslist, someone told me."

"Ugh."

We spent the next five minutes wiping down the chairs with serviettes before sitting down. Velocity wasn't crowded tonight – shocker, on a Thursday – and yet, the mess said otherwise. I could smell sweat and warm beer and honestly, I wondered why we continued to come here.

"So how long have you and Luke been sleeping together?" I asked, once Kira had finished her drink.

She sprayed tequila out of her mouth and onto the table, coughing loudly. I sat back and watched this performance with a smile on my face.

"Huh? What?" she sputtered, her cheeks heating up beautifully. "I don't know what –"

"Cut the crap. Luke wears Versace Eros and you stink of it," I said. "I was with him the first time he bought that scent. Plus, I couldn't help but notice the fresh hickey on your neck and how you're wearing the same clothes you wore to school today – which means you didn't go home to change before a night out. How unlike you. You came straight from Luke's."

Kira stared at me, mouth ajar.

"Elementary, my dear Watson," I quipped, enjoying this look on her face. It wiped away the fairly obvious Luke-was-inside-me-an-hour-ago, cat-got-all-the-cream expression clean off her face. "I can't believe you were trying to hide this from me."

"I wasn't hiding it from you." She released a heavy sigh, looking vulnerable for only a second. "I just didn't want to say anything in case he changed his mind. Jinxing it, you know?"

"Kira, don't be silly. Luke is crazy for you. He wants this. He wants you." I paused. "I love him and all, but if he doesn't appreciate you, he can go play in traffic blindfolded."

Kira grinned at me. "Thanks."

"So...you can squeal now."

With my permission, she did. "I'm just so fuсking happy, Maya!" she exclaimed. "Luke is... He's perfect. The most attentive lover ever. And his dick? Maya, it's hu-"

"Oh, my God. Stop! He's like a brother to me." I groaned, covering my ears and shooting Kira a glare. "I said you can squeal, not tell me how great he is in bed!"

"Okay, okay. I get it. I'm sorry." She narrowed her eyes at me. "Speaking of hiding things, you and Jailbird are dating now? Like officially?"

I picked up a serviette and began picking at it. "I guess. I mean, it's safer that way, isn't it?"

"You're seriously going to pretend you're only exclusive for health reasons? I don't know why I'm shocked."

"What?" I said, on the defensive. "I think the last girlfriend Jake had was Ella. It's a little weird for me, OK?"

Not to mention the fact that we'd agreed to keep this strictly sex. I might've been new to this, but I knew enough to know that this was how it had to be – no rainbows and definitely no roses. Besides, we were both afraid of each other. Afraid to fall.

Kira gave me a sympathetic look. "OK. I understand. But I bumped into Bree the other day and she pretty much said Jake's whipped. When he's at The Wreck, he doesn't even glance at a skirt anymore." She eyed me. "So what does he do at that club without you?"

"He tends bar sometimes. Hangs out, grabs a beer." I shrugged. "He's free to do whatever he wants. I'm not one of those women that wants to be joined at the hip to her boyfriend."

Kira gave me a triumphant look, like I was Sepp Blatter and I'd just admitted to corruption. "Ha! Bingo! You said boyfriend!"

I glared at her. "You know what? There's a simple way to solve this." I pulled my phone out my bag and hit the number I now had on speed dial. "Hey, Jake," I said when he answered.

His sensuous voice poured into my ear like honey. "Babe, how's girls' night? Miss me yet?"

"quot;Good, and maybe a little." I answered his questions in quick succession. "Quick question, though. Am I your girlfriend?"

A long silence roared in my ear like a white noise. Then, "Isn't that obvious?"

"Quit the rhetoric. It's a yes or no."

"How many times do I have to fuсk you to make you understand that you're my woman?"

Loud, masculine voices erupted in the background of wherever he was and I heard Jake's voice become fainter as he cursed at whoever was with him.

"Asking me would've been a nice gesture," I muttered.

To which he responded: "Fine. Maya Fenton, don't you know that you're my woman?"

"Smartass."

"The smartest."

My lips twitched. "Okay, I'm hanging up. Go back to what you were doing."

"What, church?" A long time ago, I'd learned that "church" was what they called their club meetings. "I'd rather do you."

I felt a blush stain my cheeks. "Do you ever stop?"

He chuckled in my ear. "No, but my ass has gone to sleep. I don't wanna be here."

I laughed. "Get Ghost to spank it awake."

"Oh, you'd like that. Probably get a lady boner just thinking about another guy spanking my ass."

"Your ass isn't that great, FYI," I lied, meeting Kira's wide-eyed stare with a roll of my eyes. "But just so we're clear, only I get to spank it. Boyfriend," I added.

It felt...natural to call him this. Kind of like it had been this way forever. I needed to examine that later.

"Jesus, woman. I can't believe I'm getting hard 'cause you just threatened to give me a hiding," Jake said with a groan of frustration.

Curiosity got the better of me. "Do you like that kind of thing?"

"I like anything with you."

I crossed one leg over the other. "Don't say that to me. I might discover that I like some weird fetish and you'll end up regretting it."

"We're gonna pick this up when I get to your place tonight, OK? Hold that thought," he said, his voice rough. "And Maya?"

"Yes?"

"Stay wet for me."

He hung up and I stared at my phone for the longest time until Kira's voice snapped me out of my haze.

"Who are you and what have you done to Maya Fenton?" she wanted to know.

I smiled. There was a simple, honest answer for that. "Honey, this is a part of Maya Fenton that had been locked away for years and years. By the way – apparently, Jake and I are dating."

"I can't believe you asked him over the phone."

"I can't believe he basically just asked me out over the phone."

"Oh, man. I think you could fall for this one, I really do. In fact, I'd bet my car on that."

"Stop. I care about him and he cares about me, but falling in love just isn't going to happen."

Her eyes narrowed into slits. "How about we raise the stakes? If you fall in love with him, you have to get his name tattooed on you somewhere. Anywhere but your forehead."

"Are you serious?" I scoffed, having no intention of agreeing to something as stupid as that.

"As a court summons," she said, completely stone-faced. "If I have an embarrassing ex-boyfriend tattoo on my person, you should, too."

Sure. Because I was envious of the ill-conceived "Eric" tattoo on her right hip.

I shook my head. "We're seriously betting? And if I win?"

"Oh, Maya bear. Don't you realize that you can't win?"

***

I got home to an empty house just after midnight. Iris was spending the night at her boyfriend's place – and since the world was so small, I'd found out that her boyfriend was none other than Max Stevenson, Sebastian's former colleague.

He'd come by a few days earlier and we'd both been stunned to see the other half-naked at seven in the morning. Granted, I was in my bathrobe and he was in perfectly modest boxers, but still – not a nice surprise. After the initial shock, he'd told me that the Brown residence had recently gone on the market and that Sebastian's parents were leaving town.

"Have you seen Sebastian?" I'd asked him.

Max had shaken his head. "No one's seen him in a while. It's like he's completely disappeared without a trace."

I was pretty sure that Sebastian was still alive and possibly well, selling anything and everything that would get him the money to compensate the McNally brothers, his parents' house being the first thing.

For whatever reason, Max and I had automatically pretended not to already know each other when Iris eventually woke up and made the introductions ("Max works with Sebastian, Maya. I can't believe I never told you that!").

In any case, thanks to him, I had the place to myself. Iris was great, and so far, we'd watched a total of thirty horror movies together on her couch. She was into low-budget slasher films and I was into psychological thrillers. We compromised with Wes Craven.

"What's that song you're humming?" Jake's voice came from outside the shower stall.

I nearly jumped out of my skin. "You never knock, Jake!"

He pulled the door open, a leer on his face. "Knocking's for strangers," he said, stepping into the stall in all his naked glory. Kind of presumptuous of him.

I snorted, taking one step back to make room for him. "Knocking's polite."

"I'm not polite."

"Don't I know it," I murmured, reaching up to frame his face between my hands. His eyes danced as I surveyed him. "No fights today?"

"No, Ma. I was a good boy today," he quipped, putting his hands over mine. He walked me backwards, until my butt hit the wall. "Were you a good girl?"

"Depends," I replied, inhaling sharply when he palmed my breast and teased the puckered nipple between his fingers. "Does it make me a bad girl if I had bad thoughts but good intentions?"

"Bad thoughts?" His other hand skimmed down my stomach. "Tell me."

I huffed out a frustrated breath, taking his hand and putting it between my legs. "Well, they were about you..."

"Naturally." He pushed two fingers into me, grasping my upturned face and claiming my lips with his own.

"Cocky bastard," I whispered, allowing myself to get sucked into the whirlpool of ravenous need that came with the taste of Jacob Ford's lips.

As his tongue plundered my mouth, he continued to finger me, gliding effortlessly inside me with my slickness. I moaned, parting my legs even further, breathing heavily. His entire body shielded me from the rain of hot water and his mouth burned mine.

Perhaps it was the fact that all the blood in my brain was rushing down to my сlitoris that made me do what I did next. It was one of those I've seen it in the movies shower sex scenes in which the female protagonist effortlessly lifts one leg around the man's hip and they proceed to have really squeaky-clean sex.

But there's shower gel. And there's water. And there's tiles. And there's surprising your man with that move that he ends up losing his grip on you and you both go sliding to the floor.

I hit the back of my head against the wall, pain instantly shooting through my skull. I took Jake with me when I fell, so that was fun. I giggled.

"Well, that was an epic fail," I remarked, allowing Jake to run his hands over my head.

"You OK? You didn't hurt yourself?" His fingers pressed against a particularly tender spot at the back of my head and I grimaced. "Shit. Babe, I'm so fuсking sorry."

"My fault," I told him, allowing him to heave me up into his arms and elbow open the mottled glass of the door. "Stop! We're dripping all over the floor!"

"Yeah, you're definitely fine," he said dryly, putting me down on my bed. He returned to the bathroom before coming out with my towel and drying himself off in one sweep.

Kneeling between my legs, he took his time with me, squeezing the water out of my hair before toweling off every inch of my damp skin. I had to let him examine my head for bleeding – despite my vehement protests – but as I'd thought, I was fine. Not even a bump.

"Can we go back to what we were doing before we bailed?" I reached out and pulled a handful of his wet hair.

"How much did you have to drink?"

My hand dropped. "You think I'm drunk?" I'd had a grand total of two shots – followed by about three glasses of water.

"You're off-balance and horny as fuсk."

"No. I slipped and you make me horny."

I saw the quick bob of his Adam's apple as he swallowed. "When did you become such a bad girl?" he said roughly.

"When did you become such a choirboy?" I edged my foot forward, brushing my toes against the silky steel of his erection.

"Choirboy?" Jake curled a lip as if the word disgusted him.

In the blink of an eye, he'd maneuvered me onto my back, his body covering mine. With a single roll of his hips, he ground his coсk against my opening. I was more than aroused. Soft sounds of pleasure, of need left my lips and his mouth fell upon mine, swallowing them up.

"Jake..." I felt so empty, my vagina clenching around nothing, wanting desperately for him to fill me.

But Jake wouldn't give me his coсk. Instead, he continued the delicious torture of pressing himself against the soft lips of my pusѕy. His mouth left my lips and kissed its way down the side of my neck until he got to my breasts, making me arch my back. He claimed a nipple, moaning around the nub. I closed my eyes, spearing my fingers into his hair, holding him down. Every time he did this, I was amazed by how good it felt. Almost as good as when he sucked on my сlit.

He bit down. A sweet pain sent my senses into overload. My belly clenched, and a warm flood of moisture pooled between my legs. When his mouth moved to my other nipple – laving the areola, teeth grazing my skin – I heard myself whisper, "Jake, please, I'm so wet."

I felt his fingers there, circling my сlit a few times before pumping inside me. "Open your eyes and fuсkin' look at me, Silver Eyes," he demanded, and I did. "The minute my coсk went into this sweet pusѕy, I owned it. You understand that, right? That I'm batshit crazy for you?"

My pulse kicked up a notch. "Uh-huh."

"If you ever fuсkin' hurt me," he said, "I don't think I'd live."

It was the fleeting vulnerable look in his beautiful honey-colored eyes that did it for me. This man, who claimed he had no heart, who claimed he wasn't worth any emotion... This man was admitting that I could hurt him. That I could kill him.

His raw voice prompted me to begin, "I would never –" but that was all I managed to get out because he slammed into me, as if he didn't want to hear what I had to say. Later, I would make him listen, but for now, the only thing I could focus on was how all the breath left my lungs, how full I felt with every deep, powerful thrust of Jake's diсk.

My legs went around his waist, heels digging into his ass. His chest was smashed against my breasts, the silver hoops in his nipples brushing against my skin. Moaning, I pressed my mouth into the crook of his shoulder, tasting his skin. He intoxicated me, this man. I felt the heady rush that came whenever we were joined like this. My fingernails scrabbled for purchase along the hard ridges of the muscles of his back.

The wild push of his hips against mine sent him deeper, shoving me that much closer to release. Jake's eyes held mine, fogged over with lust, with male satisfaction. He had me. I had him. His kiss forced us to slow down a little, forced us to savor and taste this moment. And when he came, murmuring the Hebrew I now recognized as a sort of prayer, my arms locked tight around as I surrendered to the rush of my own orgaѕm.

It was strange to remember his mother's prayers, but that was how I knew some of what Jake was saying. It kind of warmed my chest.

I liked that he knew how to pray, even if it was only when he was inside me.

***

It felt like the early hours of morning when Jake's phone rang from the bedside table. The heavy weight of his arm around my waist disappeared as he sat up, answering the call. Rubbing my hands and yawning quietly, I sat up, too.

His conversation was mostly a series of grunts and f-bombs before he hung up and got out of bed.

"What is it?" I drew the covers over my naked body, watching him get dressed.

"I gotta go bail Baron outta jail," he muttered, sitting on the edge of the bed to pull his motorcycle boots on. "Guy's been here for barely over a goddamn week and he does this."

I instantly reacted, throwing the covers aside and getting to my feet. "What happened?"

"Babe, no. Go back to sleep. It's four a.m."

"I'm coming with you. Is he OK?"

"He's fine." He put his hands on either side of my face. "Sleep."

"No. Because I think you're making this seem like nothing when it's something."

He let out a breath. "Fine. Get dressed," he bit out, "and let's go find out why they think my brother murdered a prostitute."