stood up. “Fine. Then if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to retreat to my bedroom. This discussion has gotten me hot, so I need to take care of business since you’re clearly not going to be any help.”
Huh?
Cash quickly pasted on an indifferent look and acted like the announcement hadn’t sent a bolt of desire straight to his groin. “Have fun,” he said lightly.
Her lips twitched in humor as she edged away from the sofa. “I will. And just to give you fair warning, I can be loud when I’m coming, so don’t be alarmed if you hear screams.”
With that, she flounced off, her bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor. A few seconds later, he heard Matt’s door creak open and shut. And then…silence.
Cash staggered to his feet, busying himself with gathering up the beer bottles, empty pizza box and used napkins cluttering the coffee table.
She wasn’t really getting herself off. She was simply trying to lure him in by planting a new slew of sinful images in his head.
At least that’s what he told himself before the first strains of the masturbation symphony filled the air.
Soft moans. A husky groan. He thought he heard an “Oh God” in there.
Ignore it, he told his hurting dick. It’s a trick, buddy.
He folded up the cardboard pizza box and shoved it in the recycling bin under the sink.
“Oh!”
Cash bit the inside of his cheek and poured Jen’s half-empty beer down the drain.
“Oh…oh… ohhhhh !”
By the time the tenth moan or so sliced through the apartment, Cash knew he was being played.
Shoulders rigid, he shut off the faucet and marched toward Matt’s room. He didn’t knock. Just threw the door open, crossed his arms and glared at the blonde.
She lay in the center of the bed with her head resting on the cedar headboard. In her hands was a copy of Twilight .
“Oh, hey, Cash,” she said when she spotted him. With a broad smile, she held up the book. “Have you ever read this? Edward is so dreamy, don’t you think?”
He growled in sheer frustration and spun on his heel.
“Ah, Team Jacob,” he heard her murmur in a knowing voice.
Gritting his teeth, he strode into his bedroom, shut the door behind him, and raked both hands over his scalp.
Jesus.
It was going to be a long three weeks.
Two days later, Cash breathed a sigh of relief as he slid into the passenger side of Ryan’s olive-green Jeep. It was Saturday morning, Jen was upstairs having breakfast with Annabelle, and Cash was officially allowed to relax for the next couple of hours. In fact, he couldn’t wait to put some much-needed distance between him and the evil temptress named Jennifer Scott.
The damn woman had been testing his limits for the past forty-eight hours. Parading around the apartment in next to nothing. Brushing up against him in the kitchen. Talking about sex nonstop. Christ, she’d even managed to make updating her resume look hot—leaning close to her laptop in a way that emphasized the sexy curve of her spine, biting that plush bottom lip as she studied the screen.
He’d been sporting an unceasing erection for two days now. Couldn’t even remember what it was like to not be hard as a rock. His daily workout hadn’t helped take the edge off. Neither had his daily—fine, twice daily—jack-off session in the shower. If anything, he was even more hard-up, especially since Jen had taken to taunting him whenever he stepped out of the bathroom, innocently inquiring whether he’d enjoyed himself.
Any day now, he might actually kill her.
Or fuck her.
Discipline.
“Screw discipline,” he mumbled to himself.
“What was that?” Ryan asked as he steered across the Coronado Bay Bridge.
“Nothing,” Cash said. “Just thinking out loud.”
Ryan gave him a strange look. “O-kay. Anyway, Jane wanted to know if you got her email.”
“The one about Becker-approved baby gifts for Sadie?”
“That’s the one,” Ryan said dryly. “And before you ask, yes, I wholeheartedly
Huh?
Cash quickly pasted on an indifferent look and acted like the announcement hadn’t sent a bolt of desire straight to his groin. “Have fun,” he said lightly.
Her lips twitched in humor as she edged away from the sofa. “I will. And just to give you fair warning, I can be loud when I’m coming, so don’t be alarmed if you hear screams.”
With that, she flounced off, her bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor. A few seconds later, he heard Matt’s door creak open and shut. And then…silence.
Cash staggered to his feet, busying himself with gathering up the beer bottles, empty pizza box and used napkins cluttering the coffee table.
She wasn’t really getting herself off. She was simply trying to lure him in by planting a new slew of sinful images in his head.
At least that’s what he told himself before the first strains of the masturbation symphony filled the air.
Soft moans. A husky groan. He thought he heard an “Oh God” in there.
Ignore it, he told his hurting dick. It’s a trick, buddy.
He folded up the cardboard pizza box and shoved it in the recycling bin under the sink.
“Oh!”
Cash bit the inside of his cheek and poured Jen’s half-empty beer down the drain.
“Oh…oh… ohhhhh !”
By the time the tenth moan or so sliced through the apartment, Cash knew he was being played.
Shoulders rigid, he shut off the faucet and marched toward Matt’s room. He didn’t knock. Just threw the door open, crossed his arms and glared at the blonde.
She lay in the center of the bed with her head resting on the cedar headboard. In her hands was a copy of Twilight .
“Oh, hey, Cash,” she said when she spotted him. With a broad smile, she held up the book. “Have you ever read this? Edward is so dreamy, don’t you think?”
He growled in sheer frustration and spun on his heel.
“Ah, Team Jacob,” he heard her murmur in a knowing voice.
Gritting his teeth, he strode into his bedroom, shut the door behind him, and raked both hands over his scalp.
Jesus.
It was going to be a long three weeks.
Two days later, Cash breathed a sigh of relief as he slid into the passenger side of Ryan’s olive-green Jeep. It was Saturday morning, Jen was upstairs having breakfast with Annabelle, and Cash was officially allowed to relax for the next couple of hours. In fact, he couldn’t wait to put some much-needed distance between him and the evil temptress named Jennifer Scott.
The damn woman had been testing his limits for the past forty-eight hours. Parading around the apartment in next to nothing. Brushing up against him in the kitchen. Talking about sex nonstop. Christ, she’d even managed to make updating her resume look hot—leaning close to her laptop in a way that emphasized the sexy curve of her spine, biting that plush bottom lip as she studied the screen.
He’d been sporting an unceasing erection for two days now. Couldn’t even remember what it was like to not be hard as a rock. His daily workout hadn’t helped take the edge off. Neither had his daily—fine, twice daily—jack-off session in the shower. If anything, he was even more hard-up, especially since Jen had taken to taunting him whenever he stepped out of the bathroom, innocently inquiring whether he’d enjoyed himself.
Any day now, he might actually kill her.
Or fuck her.
Discipline.
“Screw discipline,” he mumbled to himself.
“What was that?” Ryan asked as he steered across the Coronado Bay Bridge.
“Nothing,” Cash said. “Just thinking out loud.”
Ryan gave him a strange look. “O-kay. Anyway, Jane wanted to know if you got her email.”
“The one about Becker-approved baby gifts for Sadie?”
“That’s the one,” Ryan said dryly. “And before you ask, yes, I wholeheartedly
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