Chapter 6

6

W hile Brock took an inordinately long time in the bathroom, Jayda dressed and went in search of coffee—caffeine made everything better—to quell her disappointment.

Could he leave her in bed any quicker?

She hadn’t expected cuddling or spooning or anything remotely resembling intimacy, but it still irked. Sex with Brock had momentarily stripped her defences and rather than wanting to run from him as she had on grad night, this time she revelled in the way he’d made her come alive.

Tonight had been even better than that night six years ago: Brock had learned some moves and then some.

He’d seduced her into wanting something she couldn’t have.

Him.

Brock had made it clear he was leaving in two weeks and he rarely stayed in one place. If he’d been trying to send her a message, she’d got it loud and clear.

But what if she didn’t want anything else but his body for a few weeks of scintillating sex? Two weeks with Brock fulfilling her every fantasy would be heaven but could also plunge her into hell if she couldn’t get him out of her head again.

The kicker? It was more than the sex and she damn well knew it.

Back on graduation night, she’d been seeking solace and he’d willingly given it. But after their banter tonight she realised they had a connection beyond the physical. Sex, even the oral stuff she’d done over the last few years, always made her feel a tad uncomfortable. It had been the same with every guy: a date or two, the goodnight kiss that led to more, her being plagued by insecurities at having to reveal her body to a virtual stranger, and the resultant lack of wanting to follow through beyond a blowjob.

That whole dating scene left her cold because of it and the longer her sex drought extended, the more insecure she became. Yet with Brock it had been different. He already knew her insecurities and made her feel adored in a way she could get used to.

Tonight, she’d felt comfortable around him in a way she never had with any guy, which definitely left her wanting more. But considering how fast he’d bolted from his bed, what would he say if she suggested it?

She fired up his state-of-the-art espresso machine, grateful she had one just like it. The whiz-bang appliance ground beans and frothed milk and produced the best coffees on the planet in record time, ensuring her mug was filled in two minutes. Lucky, because the caffeine could jumpstart her brain and she could think of a logical, plausible way to approach this.

Blasé and flippant weren’t in her repertoire. Besides, Brock was too smart, too intuitive, and he’d see straight through her jocularity if she termed her proposal in joking terms.

Thanks for a fun night. Let’s do it again soon…like every night for the next two weeks.

Or, Tonight was great, so how about we catch up outside the office?

Or, You are a stud in the sack and I want to do you repeatedly for however long you’re in town.

She cringed. Lame.

‘What are you doing in here?’ His deep voice rasped across her frayed nerves and she whirled around to find him standing in the doorway, freshly showered and way too sexy.

Damp curls skimmed the collar of a faded grey polo shirt hanging loosely over faded denim that slung low on his hips. He propped against the doorframe, the epitome of sexy casual.

‘Hey,’ she said, gesturing at the machine. ‘Hope you don’t mind but I needed a caffeine fix.’

His eyebrows rose in disbelief. ‘At this time of night?’

A pathetic ‘yeah,’ was all she could manage as he stalked towards her, all long legs and confident ease in his body.

‘You could’ve stayed in bed.’ Her heart gave a betraying leap as he stopped in front of her. ‘Don’t you trust my coffee-making skills?’

‘I trust you,’ she said, unable to read the flicker of emotion in his impenetrable stare before realising how that sounded.

Like a woman thinking beyond tonight, the perfect segue into broaching the subject of a fling, but she had to keep this light. ‘Besides, can’t a friend make an espresso without being interrogated?’

Her flippancy didn’t work as his shrewd stare made her want to squirm. ‘Friends, huh?’

She picked up her coffee mug and headed for the sofa where they’d swapped banter earlier, studiously avoiding looking at the bedroom. Yeah, like that would eradicate the erotic flashbacks: the way he’d lavished attention on her clit with his talented tongue, the way he’d held her effortlessly against the wall, the way he’d plunged into her, filling her in a way she craved.

‘That’s some blush you’ve got going on,’ he said, sitting way too close to her on the sofa.

The heat in her cheeks intensified as she placed the mug on the coffee table. ‘Do you have to be so blunt all the time?’

‘That’s me. Take it or leave it.’ He shrugged, his nonchalance infuriating.

Couldn’t he bring up what had happened between them and make this easier on her? Then again, it wasn’t his fault that for someone who projected a confident image she was a marshmallow on the inside.

She might have learned from a young age how to dress to flatter her curves and how to apply contouring makeup and how to style her hair to slim her face, but all the stylists’ grooming lessons in the world meant nothing in the face of Brock’s directness.

‘What if I take it?’

Surprise flickered in his eyes. ‘What does that mean?’

‘You’re a smart guy.’

His eyebrow arched. ‘That’s not what you thought back in uni. You treated me like an idiot’

‘I did not.’ She puffed up in outrage. ‘You were one of the smartest guys I knew.’

‘Then why did you look down on me?’

‘I didn’t,’ she said, hating herself for lying, but she couldn’t tell him the truth: that the only reason she couldn’t interact with him back then was fear. Fear that he was so damn smart he’d see right through her.

She’d been a bubbly, popular extrovert all through uni. Classmates had flocked to her, though she knew that for many her wealth had had a lot to do with it rather than her scintillating personality. She’d basked in the attention, knowing she got little of it at home.

Back then, she’d been nice to everyone but had ensured she kept her interactions with smart guys like Brock to a minimum. The last thing she needed was to be called out as a phoney. She’d been terrified of that, of having her inner secrets exposed: that she’d dragged her fat ass out of bed most days, reluctant to face anyone let alone go through the rigmarole of donning her ‘mask’ of dark, slimming colours cut to skim her figure and spending forty-five minutes using bronzer to sculpt her face just right to give the illusion of cheekbones and a jawline.

She might have grown more comfortable in her skin over the years but back then she’d been petrified that this guy with his all-seeing stare and skyrocketing IQ would see right through her.

He folded his arms and eyed her with blatant speculation. ‘You were condescending and uppity at uni, admit it.’

‘Fine.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I was aloof.’

‘And standoffish.’

‘Whatever.’ She poked out her tongue at him.

He grinned at her sass and his smile packed a punch that landed in her solar plexus, making her breathless.

Damn it, she needed to gather her wits before she could broach the subject of them, so she tried to deflect.

‘You know, for a pretty smart guy you were a dumbass because—’

His mouth covered hers in a fiery kiss that robbed her of breath and made her heart soar. His lips demanded compliance and she gave it readily, her hands clawing for purchase at his T-shirt as he wrapped his arms around her and crushed her to him.

His rock-hard dick pushed against her pelvis, making her throb with want, her indignation morphing into a much more powerful emotion: mindless desire.

He wrenched his mouth from hers, and muttered, ‘fuck,’ under his breath, his chest heaving as he dragged in deep breaths.

‘We need to talk,’ he said, gently disengaging her hands from his T-shirt.

‘Yeah, we do.’ She pressed a finger to his lips to silence him. ‘The sex is better than I remembered and I want more.’

‘Wow, if that’s what you want.’ His eyes widened in surprise at her bluntness. ‘This could work. I’m in town for another two weeks. I help you with your IT needs during the day—’ he stepped into her personal space and ducked down so that his lips grazed her ear ‘—and all your other needs at night.’

Jayda wanted to fist-pump the air in victory, but before she could respond his phone rang.

He glanced at the screen and blanched, muttering, ‘I have to take this,’ before stalking into the bedroom and slamming the door.