The Wager - Dyken Rachel Van - Страница 47

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“What?”

“What type of brother would I be if I didn’t protect my brother’s heart? What type of person would I be if I didn’t protect poor Char’s virtue?” He shook his head and raised his hand to his chest. “I couldn’t live with myself…”

“Jake’s going to murder me.”

“Misery loves company.” Travis took a long gulp of water. “Yes it does.” 

Dessert was served. Char chose a chocolate souffle with whipped cream. The minute it was set in front of her, she saw Jake’s hungry gaze.

With a wicked smile she dipped her finger into the whipped cream and slowly licked it clean.

His mouth dropped open, just slightly.

She licked her lips and dipped her finger again.

Jake leaned forward, his eyes almost closing as his half-lidded gaze went from teasing to lustful.

Char wondered when was the last time the player had been played, or that he’d had to actually wait for something.

Carefully, she slipped out of her wedge heels and relaxed a little further down in her seat. Trying to act nonchalant, she took another bite of her dessert and watched Jake watch her. She knew the exact moment her foot came into contact with his leg. With a jerk, he grabbed the edge of the table and cursed.

“Everything all right, Jake?” Petunia asked, examining him through her glasses.

“Perfect,” he said in a strained voice. “A bit hot.” His hooded eyes blinked a few times before he reached for his water glass and took a long sip.

“It is quite humid out.” Petunia fanned herself. “But you look positively flushed. Are you sure you aren’t coming down with something?”

“I wish,” Jake said.

“Pardon?” Her brows furrowed.

“Pretty dish.” He pointed to the butter dish in the middle of the table.

Char bit her lip to keep from laughing; she took another slow bite of souffle and licked her fork. Jake groaned across the table.

Her foot came into contact with his skin.

“Mother of—”

“Jake?” Petunia shook her head. “You have me worried.”

“Me too.” Char licked her lips and let her foot inch up his leg.

Jake braced both hands on the table, his eyes setting her on fire with how hard he was staring at her. “I’m sure.”

His eyes closed as she rubbed up and down his calf and then braced his one leg with both of hers, jerking him closer to the table.

“Shit.” He exhaled.

“I beg your pardon!” Petunia scolded. “Jake Titus, you stop your filthy language.”

“He’s such a dirty, dirty, boy,” Grandma agreed with a wink.

Jake groaned, his eyes pleading with Char to either stop or keep going and kill him right then and there.

“You know what happens to dirty boys,” Char said helpfully.

“What?” His voice was hoarse.

“They get spanked,” Petunia spat. “Hard!”

Jake swore a blue streak.

“Wescott!” Petunia demanded. “Please control your son! It seems he keeps having urges to use foul language at the dinner table! Well, in my day we’d send boys to their rooms if they did such a thing.”

“Fine.” Wescott rolled his eyes. “Go to your room, Jake, take your punishment like a man.”

“I, uh…” Jake sputtered. “Should probably stay right here.”

“You heard your father.” Petunia shook her head. “You need to be punished.”

“Please.” He whimpered and hung his head in his hands.

“Jake…” Char pulled her foot away and leaned forward. “You should probably listen to your father. Wouldn’t want you getting into any trouble… go to your room.”

“I can’t,” he said through clenched teeth.

Grandma pushed to her, feet knocking an entire pitcher of ice water into Jake’s lap. His eyes bulged out of his head as she leaned over so only he and Char could hear. “You’re welcome.”

“I want to die.” This from Jake.

“You clumsy boy, go change your pants,” Grandma ordered. “Char, why don’t you get us some more water from the kitchen?”

She didn’t have to be told twice.

Cursing, Jake threw down his napkin and chased after her.

Shoes off, she was able to run across the grass. Once she was in the house she stole a glance behind her. Jake was gaining on her. The look on his face was predatory.

With a squeal she ran up the stairs to the bedroom, just as his strong arms came around her, pushing her farther into the room.

“Naughty girl. I’ll make you pay for that.”

She turned in his arms and licked his chin like she had her souffle. “You promise?”

“Strip.” He released her and walked over to the bed, slowly sinking down into it. “Now.”

“Demanding.” Char put her hands on her hips. “Aren’t we?”

“Yeah.” Jake leaned back on his elbows. “The way I see it, you owe me. Not only did I do a naughty dance for you, with chaps might I add, but you made me suffer through dessert, while my great aunt, the virgin one, you know her, told me I needed to be spanked.”

Char laughed.

“Not funny,” Jake groaned. “Most awkward moment of my life.”

“Before or after Grandma cooled you off?” Char asked.

“If you want me to be able to perform, ever, you won’t mention that again.” Jake swore.

Char fumbled with the straps of her dress. “I remember.”

“Remember?” Jake’s eyes were trained on her fingers as she toyed with the straps pulling them further down her body. “What do you remember?”

“Us.” Char let the dress fall to the ground and stepped out of it. “I remember our night together. I lied. I told Beth I didn’t. I told you it wasn’t good. I was just trying to make you feel bad.”

“Hmm.” Jake stood and slowly approached her. “I deserved it.”

“I know.”

“So… on a scale of one to ten…” Jake reached out and touched her shoulders, running his hands down her arms. “One being the worst moment of your life, and ten being, best…”

“Six.” Char said honestly. “To be fair you’d had tequila.”

“Damn.” Jake said. “I must have really been losing my touch.”

“I had nothing to compare it to.”

Jake’s hands froze on her arms. “You mean you had no one to compare it to? Or you decided not to compare me because I was that bad?”

And there it was. Part of the reason she’d lost her heart to him, then and forever. “I um, sort of, don’t have anyone to compare it to.”

Jake swore and touched his forehead to hers. “I’m a jackass. I didn’t know. I mean, like you said, lots of tequila and—”

“It’s all right.” Char kissed him softly.

“No.” He jerked back. “It’s not all right. It’s a damn shame; that’s what it is.” Before Char could say anything more he’d lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. “It should be life altering. Earth moving. Mind numbing. It should be about feeling every single touch of my fingertips.” He trailed his fingers from the tip of her bra all the way down the middle of her stomach. “Your muscles should constrict every time my breath fans over your face. Your body should literally arch toward me, it should beg for my touch, and mine should be selfless enough to give you what you need before I even begin to think about myself.”

Char whimpered as he pulled his shirt over his head and hovered over her. “Sex can be mindless or it can be mindful. It can become habitual, or it can be just about getting off. It can be entirely selfish. But I’ve decided I don’t want to have sex anymore.”

“What?” Some of the passion dissipated from Char’s consciousness. “What do you mean?”

“I want to make love,” Jake whispered. “With you. I don’t want it to be purely physical. I need it to be spiritual, because with you, it’s so much more, Char. It’s everything. Maybe to you it will be something else, but for me…” Jake shook his head and kissed her hard on the mouth. “I’ve jumped out of the boat. Come with me?”

“Already there.” Char wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to cover her body. She could only imagine how amazing being with him was going to be after that speech. 

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