Hit the Spot Page 3

  I watched Jamie’s eyes flicker wider, appreciating the attention I was now giving him.

  “Excuse me?” I questioned.

  Then he licked his lips, tilted his head with a smile, and added, “You spend the night with me, you’ll see what I’m talking about. ’Cause no joke, and I ain’t ashamed to admit this since, deep down, I think you’ll like hearin’ it, even though you’ll stand there looking pissed off and hatin’ on me like you always do. I know hard up when I see it and you’re wearing it, babe, so I’m gonna give it to you straight. Your name is all I’m saying when I’m in my bed, getting there by myself.”

  My eyes widened. Holy…shit.

  Jamie McCade, God’s model for perfection, was talking about masturbating. I really did not need that visual.

  I pinched my lips together and inhaled sharply through my nose, all while ignoring the warmth spreading low in my belly.

  “You’re disgusting,” I declared, my voice betraying me and sounding thick with want.

  Damn it.

  “Yeah, you gotta say that, Legs. Otherwise you’d be admittin’ shit to me you’re not ready to admit yet.”

  “There is nothing to admit,” I argued.

  “You liked what I just said.”

  “I did not.”

  “Did.”

  Gripping my pen and ticket book with both hands, I tipped forward until I was leaning over the table, narrowed my eyes, and repeated with emphasis, “Did. Not.”

  Jamie quickly reached out, wrapped his hand around my elbow now, and held on firm, a lot firmer than before, keeping me at the close proximity I so willingly entered of my own volition.

  Shit. The first rule of sparring with Jamie McCade was to keep your distance.

  Rookie mistake. I was screwed.

  “How long are we gonna keep playin’ this little game?” he asked, his voice dropping low.

  “What little game?” I asked back, playing dumb because Jamie was gripping me, he was staring deep into my eyes, and my heart was starting to beat so loudly I could feel it vibrating through my bones, and if I said the words clinging to the tip of my tongue—“I don’t know”—I was afraid of how they would sound and, worse, how he’d react to them.

  Breathy. Helpless. Defeated. I couldn’t let him hear my weakness. He’d take advantage. He’d grip harder and stare deeper. He’d pull me closer and then…

  “You know the game, babe,” he said, snapping me out of my thoughts.

  I blinked him into focus as he kept on at me.

  “I push and you push back, giving me your smart-ass mouth—which I dig, Legs, no question there—but I’m just sayin’ and this is a heads-up for you, I can only be so patient before I stop waiting around and start takin’. Your playing time is about up.”

  My lips parted. I blinked again, struggling to wrap my head around what Jamie had just said, or promised, rather.

  He’d just promised to take me. Soon. Like…soon soon?

  “Uh.” I tugged on my arm still being held by a hand that was feeling a little too good at the moment.

  He had big hands. Strong hands. Hands that could crush my heart if he touched it.

  “Can you let go of me, please?” I requested.

  Jamie gazed up at me. “You’re feelin’ it, aren’t you?”

  “What?”

  “This shit between us.” His rough fingers moved along my skin, sliding higher and wrapping firmer. “You’re feelin’ it. Right now. Fuck, babe, look at you.”

  “I’m feeling like you need to let me go so I can do my job.”

  “Not happenin’,” he growled. “Not when I get moments like this with you when I know it ain’t just me. I’m wearin’ you down.”

  “You are not wearing me down. You aren’t even close to wearing me down.” I yanked my arm again and met nothing but resistance. “Do you mind?”

  “I’m wearin’ you down, Legs,” he repeated.

  “Nope.”

  “It’s happening, babe.”

  “No it isn’t.”

  “Straight up, you say ‘no’ one more time and I’m gonna shut you up real fast in a way you’ll really fuckin’ like but won’t admit to liking. Think about that.”

  I thought about it, for all of two seconds, because I was still tipped forward, meaning Jamie’s hand was still wrapped tight around my arm keeping me tipped forward and that quickly became the only thing I could think about.

  “No, Loser, you are not wearing me down,” I grated. “Now let go of me or I’ll—”

  My threat slid down the back of my throat as I gasped and pitched forward with a yank, Jamie’s one hand staying firm on my arm while his other slid past my cheek, pushing through my hair to grip and hold me at the base of my neck. I was startled, but I didn’t have time to react, pull away, scream, cry out. I couldn’t do anything before his mouth was colliding with mine and he was kissing me, firm and fast and determined, and since my lips were already parted from the gasp, Jamie took that as an invite and tilted my head, angled our mouths together, and pushed his tongue inside.

  That was when the kiss became a kiss.

  The kind that should be done behind closed doors.

  The kind that made your toes curl and your pulse race.

  The kind you told your girlfriends about and commemorated with a diary entry.

  Jamie tasted good. Too good. And he kissed even better. I couldn’t deny it.

  That was why when I wanted to fight or twist or bite down, I didn’t, and the only reaction I gave was a moan that rolled off my tongue and onto his, which was a huge, huge mistake because he heard it and felt it, his eyes flashing open a second after mine and his grip on my neck tensing.

  He pulled back slightly to stare, then growled a “Fuck” I felt roll right up my spine while his gaze held wild with so many things.

  Want. Shock. Curiosity. And that unmistakable look someone had when they were right.

  Knowing I’d been had, I jerked back abruptly enough that he was caught off guard, freeing myself from his grasp, then I spun around and bolted across the restaurant.

  Yep. I was running. I had no other choice.

  I weaved between tables, passing the kitchen and the counter, where Kali was still standing, and giving her a “cover me” look she read loud and clear.

  I knew she saw the kiss. I was sure everyone in Whitecaps saw the kiss.

  And I was still feeling that kiss, panicking because I was still feeling it and because I let it happen in the first place.

  That wasn’t my only problem, because honestly? I more than felt it. I liked it. I moaned.

  Sweet Jesus Christ. What was I thinking?

  Shoving the door open to the employee lounge, I stepped inside, stuffed my ticket book and pen away in my tiny black apron, and began pacing the length of the lockers along the wall while shaking my hands out at my sides.

  Jamie coated my mouth. He tasted like watermelon gum and regretful decisions.

  And I loved it.

  “Shit.” I rubbed around my lips, where I knew my lipstick had been smudged.

  My heart was pounding. My limbs were shaking.

  No way was I going back out there. Kali could handle my tables on top of her own. Besides Jamie, they were all finishing up anyway. Whatever tip they were all planning on leaving me, she could keep.

  I’d finish out my shift in here and then I’d duck out. Avoidance was the plan.

  Then the door swung open and my plan went straight to shit.

  I whirled around and nearly stumbled backward at the sight of Jamie, stalking toward me like a predator closing fast on his next meal.

  Oh, God…

  “You,” he growled. “No fuckin’ way, babe, are you pullin’ that shit with me.”

  “You can’t be in here,” I warned him, not that it did any good.

  He kept coming like he didn’t hear me, with heated eyes and powerful steps, forcing me to move back, again and again, until I was pressed flush against the lockers and Jamie was pre
ssing flush against me, legs to legs, breasts to ribs and hard…holy shit, he was hard.

  “Ja—” I started, sounding breathless, and then that breathless start turned into a mindless groan when he dipped lower, slid his hands around my waist, rolled his hips into me, and pressed his erection directly against my clit.

  My head fell back. My eyes rolled closed. And I trembled, right there in his arms.

  Worst. Mistake. Ever.

  “There it is,” he murmured, his breath hot against my face as he bent to get closer. “There it fuckin’ is. You’re feelin’ it now.”

  No no no no no. God…I couldn’t let this happen. I couldn’t.

  Not with Jamie. I’d never forgive myself. He was a loser. A player. A jerk. I couldn’t do this with him.

  “I’m not,” I lied, because I was feeling it. I was feeling all of it, and I was scared I’d never stop feeling it.

  His lips grazed my cheek.

  “You want this, Legs,” he whispered, moving closer and closer to my mouth. “I want this. Fuck, you got no idea how bad—”

  “No,” I interrupted. “I don’t want it.”

  Another lie.

  “Yeah, babe. You do.”

  He kept moving, closer and closer. We were a breath or a lie away from another kiss and I couldn’t let that happen.

  “Stop,” I whispered. My voice shook.

  I shook. Head to toe. My entire body was locking up. This was a genuine freak-out. I was way past the realm of panicking and into full-blown terrifying mania.

  Jamie froze after hearing me. His reaction was immediate, then his lips left my skin and his hands left my waist, and at the loss of contact I opened my eyes and blinked up at him where he stood, now a foot away.

  His brow was knitted tight. He was staring at me, nostrils flaring with his breaths. He looked worked up and confused and maybe a little concerned.

  Concerned?

  No. No way. Jamie McCade didn’t do concern for others, did he? I was certain he only cared about himself.

  I blinked, waiting for him to speak. I wanted Jamie to explain why he was looking at me the way he was, but he didn’t do that. He just kept staring.

  And the longer he stared, the more uncomfortable I became.

  My fingers wrapped under the hem of my shorts and tugged while I chewed nervously on my bottom lip.

  Jamie followed my restlessness. His gaze lowered to my hands and focused there, and I watched his chest heave with a sharp breath.

  “Do not fuckin’ touch that uniform, Legs,” he growled, meeting my eyes again with heat burning in his. “No joke. I do not need you adjusting your shit right now and showing me more of you. Cool it.”

  I felt my spine straighten, then I released my shorts and curled my fingers against my palms, not knowing what else to do with them. I kept my hands lowered and my back flush against the lockers.

  We went back to staring at each other.

  I contemplated making a dash for the door but figured I wouldn’t get far before I was being pinned between Jamie and another hard surface, and I couldn’t have that. So I stood there, looking at Jamie while thunder rolled under my skin. I was tense and anxious and still…still feeling that kiss.

  Why did it have to be so good? And why did it have to be from him?

  Then Jamie exhaled forcefully through a shake of his head, breaking the silence between us and causing me to tense further.

  I braced and held my breath.

  “You don’t want this to happen,” he said, more as a statement than a question, but I knew Jamie was asking me for confirmation on this. I could hear it in his voice.

  Easy. I could give him confirmation. No problem. I didn’t want this to happen. I was certain I didn’t. All I had to do was just say it.

  But did I do that? Nope. I hesitated.

  Why, I have no idea, but it happened. And Jamie didn’t miss it either.

  I watched his face soften as he registered my uncertainty, then panicking because once again, I’d been had, I quickly threw out a firm and decisive “no.”

  I was too late.

  “Bullshit,” Jamie spat, calling me out. “And straight up, babe, that’s bullshit I don’t fuckin’ need. You want this just as bad as I do and last time I checked, you weren’t wasting your time on that worthless motherfucker you called a boyfriend anymore, so what the fuck?”

  Jamie knew all about what happened with Wes. I put it on him the night I attacked Wes’s car with Syd, Shay, and Kali in tow. Jamie made me tell him.

  Then he slashed Wes’s tires.

  I wasn’t going to think about that right now, though. No way.

  “Wes doesn’t have anything to do with this,” I hissed, feeling my anger awaken at the mention of that asshole.

  “No?” Jamie’s eyes narrowed. “Then explain to me, babe, why you’re fightin’ me instead of lettin’ this shit happen.”

  “Maybe because I don’t want it to happen. Did you ever think about that?”

  I was on a roll with the lying at this point. All in. There was no turning back.

  “Christ, you’re fuckin’ delusional,” he grated, crossing his arms over his chest. “I kissed you. Yeah, I’m owning that shit, but you sure as fuck kissed me back. I felt it. You fuckin’ felt it. That kiss might’ve been instigated by me but you were a flick of my tongue away from soakin’ that hot-ass uniform of yours and don’t even try and deny it. Then I get back here, and the second I let you feel my cock, you’re burnin’ up for me again. You want this to happen. You want me, but guess what? Time’s up, Legs. I get enough pussy and I’m done waitin’ around for yours.”

  My mouth fell open.

  I didn’t believe a word he was saying. No way was he through with agitating me. It was his life’s mission. I was sure of it.

  “Oh, really?” I asked, gripping my hips and glaring.

  “Yeah, babe, really,” Jamie shot back.

  He looked his fill of me then, letting his eyes skim my body slowly as if he was looking for the last time.

  “Shit,” he murmured to himself before lifting his gaze. Then he turned away without another look or glance, crossed the small room we were in, and pushed through the door.

  I blinked after him, frozen in place as I waited, and waited…and waited for Jamie to march back in and go at me again because that’s what he did.

  He was relentless. Committed.

  No matter how many times I’d told him over the past nine months that I wasn’t interested, he still came at me.

  And now he was gone. Done. Over it.

  And I was…disappointed?

  What? No! No way. Never.

  God, it must’ve been that kiss. It stripped my brain of blood flow and I was no longer thinking straight.

  I needed to get out of here. Regroup. Reevaluate. Rethink some things. And I could. According to the clock on the wall, my shift was over.

  So I grabbed my stuff out of my locker, punched out, left the employee lounge, and waved to Kali as I walked past where she was standing by a table, telling her to keep the tips she was holding out for me and brushing off her look of concern and the “Jamie” she mouthed.

  As usual when it came to that topic, I was a vault. Always and forever.

  But just because I wasn’t willing to talk about Jamie didn’t mean I wasn’t replaying everything in my mind that had just happened between us.

  That was absolutely what I was doing.

  As I reached my car, swung the door open, climbed inside, and tossed my purse onto the passenger seat, gripping my keys and reaching to start it up, my head was swimming with images, my mouth was saturated with Jamie’s taste, and my attention was focused solely and completely on the man I never wanted to think about as I shifted into reverse and backed out of my parking space.

  Then I heard a deep voice hollering out as my bumper knocked into something.

  Hard.

  But not hard hard. It was more like a jolt. Or a firm shove.

  That was my story.


  “Shit!” I gripped the wheel with both hands and stomped on the brake with both feet as I whipped around to look out the back window.

  At first, I didn’t see anything. Then, slowly, a hand came up and slammed down on my trunk, followed by the top of a head coming into view, covered with sandy blond hair that looked more disheveled than usual.

  “Oh, shit,” I whispered, focusing on his eyes next as he pierced me with them, blue like ice and holding more anger than I’d ever seen in a pair of eyes.

  Jamie slowly straightened fully, and when he did finally stand tall, he bellowed a heart-stopping “WHAT THE FUCK?” so loud my windows rattled.

  I shrieked and shifted the car into Park, then opened the door and jumped out in a blur of limbs and long hair.

  “Are you okay?” I asked immediately with panic tightening my voice as I moved closer to examine Jamie for injuries.

  His shorts were covered in dust and dirt, but other than that, he appeared unscathed. He was standing, not hunched over. He wasn’t wincing or rubbing any parts of him. And there weren’t any cuts or scrapes on his body from what I could tell.

  I looked into his eyes as I reached the back of the car.

  “I didn’t see you at all. Is anything hurt? Are you hurt?” I asked.

  “Stay the fuck away from me,” Jamie growled, holding his hands up and slowly retreating. “You crazy-ass bitch. Do not fuckin’ come any closer.”

  I flinched, halting my steps. “What? Did you just call me a bitch?”

  “Yeah, bitch, I did. You heard me,” he spat, brushing himself off. “You ran me over. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  “I…what?” I blinked rapidly. “I didn’t do it on purpose!” I shrieked, appalled by his accusation. “I didn’t see you! I thought you left!”

  Jamie gestured over my shoulder.

  “I’m parked right the fuck next to you! Where the fuck was I going without my car?”

  My eyes went round.

  Slowly turning my head, I registered the vintage Jeep that Jamie was always driving if he wasn’t riding his motorcycle, parked right beside my Volvo.

  Well, shit.

  “My mind was on other things! I wasn’t paying attention,” I confessed, which was true. Both counts. I looked back at Jamie. “You know it was an accident. I would never intentionally do something like this. Not ever.”