Secrets of a Shy Socialite by Wendy S. Marcus Page B

cork from
an agitated bottle of bubbly.
    He moved to her other breast. The feel of his triumphant grin
against her skin gave her pause. This is what Justin did. Seduce. Convince. Use
whatever means necessary to get what he wanted. Being treated like just another
conquest didn’t sit right, regardless of how much she wanted him, so she forced
out a, “Stop,” and pushed him away.
    He lifted his head and looked at her, confused. Surprised.
    “Annie and Abbie will be up soon,” she said. “I have to
go.”
    She expected him to bargain or cajole.
    He didn’t.
    He did, however, move up her body, slowly, setting his moist
tongue to her neck for the last part of his journey up to whisper in her ear,
“Tonight, then. After work.” He blew out a hot, shaky breath. “Baby, tonight.
What I’m going to do to you.”
    Jena swallowed, gulped actually, as an excited, adventurous,
illicit anticipatory longing started to bubble deep within her.
    * * *
    “You look tired,” Jena said, walking over to where
Justin stood in the lobby of the urgent care center with his back resting up
against the wall.
    It was kind of sweet that she kept checking on him. “Because
someone kept waking me up last night.”
    “Which is why tonight you need a good night’s sleep,” she
tried, not for the first time, to get out of going back to his place.
    She took him by the hand. “Justin is taking a quick break,
Gayle,” she said then led him down the hall. “Come.”
    That was the plan. For both of them. Multiple times.
    “I cannot believe you don’t trust me enough to work without you
watching over me like an overprotective parent,” Jena complained. “You should be
home in bed.”
    “Which is where I’d be right now if you’d agreed to stay there
with me when I’d asked,” he pointed out.
    As she walked she chirped about headaches and blurred vision.
Warning signs. Forgetfulness. Potential for delayed subdural hematoma. Permanent
brain damage and dysfunction. Death.
    While he chose to focus on his urge to release the thick curls
restrained in her tight bun and muss them up for a wild, untamed look. But then
they’d cover the smooth kissable, lickable skin at the back of her neck. His
mouth actually watered at the thought. He moved his gaze lower, to the enticing
sway of her hips and glimpses of the rounded perfectness of her butt each time
her long top shifted.
    Beyond her enticing physical attributes Justin found he
actually enjoyed spending time with her which was a good thing since they’d
spent so many hours in each other’s presence over the past two days. Like the
better part of his morning and early afternoon in Jena’s bedroom, playing with
the twins and learning to care for them. And while they slept, reviewing her
financial statements, and teaching her to read them and pay her bills.
    To date it’d been the longest period of time he’d ever spent in
a room occupied by a bed and a woman without getting naked. And yet he’d still
enjoyed himself, finding Jena a captivating mix of contrasts. Innocent yet sexy.
Caring yet guarded. Insecure yet confident.
    “Honestly,” she said, jolting him back to the conversation. “I
promised I wouldn’t leave the building until Ian came to get me.”
    Like to protect her was the only reason he’d shown up at work.
No, his motives way more self-serving, Justin had loaded up on acetaminophen so
he could stay close to take advantage of every opportunity to entice her and
remind her where they were headed at the end of her shift. To his bed where he
would prove his attraction to her and not Jaci.
Where he would make Jena crave him as much as he craved her. Where he would
drive thoughts of Thomas and Dr. Charmer and a relationship with any other man
right out of her head.
    But she needed to get married. To someone. The mere thought of
Jena tending to another man’s wounds while dressed in her clingy pajamas, or
cuddling up to another man in bed, caused his chest to tighten. As did