SheLikesHimBad Read online

  But she didn’t have much time to admire it, because he bent to remove her jeans. He tugged them down over her hips, taking her lacy pink thong as he went. She stepped out and he surprised her by staying on his knees. He dropped a kiss on her knee, then nudged her legs apart so he could kiss a path up her inner thigh. As he pressed his face to her pussy, he met her gaze. His tongue toyed with her clit, pumping it with light strokes that had her gasping. Then he sucked it into his mouth and she almost lost her ability to stand.

  Her hand sank into his thick hair, her body opening to him. She was practically his slave. He rubbed his scruff over her pussy lips, the abrasion sinfully delightful. It was just enough to make the already sensitive flesh even more heightened with awareness of his every lick and kiss. When his tongue slid inside, she couldn’t repress the moan that escaped her. It was an incredible feeling, the quick dart of his tongue in her pussy. His thumb found her clit while he fucked her with his tongue, applying just enough pressure to build the sensation to a crescendo. Emma watched his gorgeous face between her legs as she came, pressing wildly into him. A cry tore from her throat as her body shook with a release that was almost violent.

  Jackson rose, his mouth glossy from his ministrations, and kissed her. She tasted herself on his lips. It was incredibly hedonistic. Uncontrollably arousing. She kissed him back with all the desire that had erupted into a raging fire within her. When their mouths broke apart, she helped him shuck his jeans. His cock was large and beautiful, hard and ready for her. He turned her around, guiding her hands flat on the table top. She heard him snap a condom on, then felt him at her back. He leaned into her, bending her over the table.

  His fingers found the wet opening of her pussy and in the next breath, his cock slid into her. He let out a groan, his breath hot in her ear as he pushed all the way in. She arched back into him, eager to take him as deeply as possible.

  “Fuck me,” she demanded.

  It was all the encouragement he needed. He pulled his cock almost entirely from her and then sank inside. A fast, hard rhythm began between them. She met him thrust for thrust, arching back into him. He went deeper, faster, harder. Suddenly, the table started skidding across the floor. Neither of them allowed it to break their stride. His cock was hitting all the right spots. In a few powerful thrusts, she was coming again, clenching on his cock as an untamed orgasm rioted through her. She didn’t think she’d ever come with so much force in her life.

  Jackson moaned in her ear. “I love feeling you come,” he whispered.

  She loved his cock, but she was too overwhelmed to even attempt English. She managed an answering moan, gathering her wits enough to keep meeting his thrusts as wonderful aftershocks went through her. He increased his pace, slamming into her with an abandon that soon had him climaxing as well. He rocked against her, coming with as much force as she had, and she wished she could feel the hot spurt of his cum inside her.

  He stayed inside her for a few breaths, his heart beating madly against her back. He grazed her ear with a kiss, then slipped from her body. Emma’s legs felt as if they were about to give up on her. She leaned on the table and attempted to collect herself. Reality gradually began returning.

  She had just had amazing, stupid sex with her high school sweetheart. And now she was stark ass naked in his kitchen. They’d fucked his table halfway across the floor. Oh Lord. Suddenly, awkward had a whole new meaning.

  Chapter Two

  There wasn’t a hell of a lot of coherent thought rattling around in Jackson’s shell-shocked brain. But there were a few choice words that stood out more than others.

  Son of a bitch.

  Idiot.

  You were thinking with the wrong head, buddy.

  He was naked and spent, standing in the middle of his kitchen in broad daylight. And he’d just fucked Emma Lee Bridges as if she were a porn starlet. Idiot didn’t even begin to describe him.

  What did he think he was doing? He didn’t just have random hookups with women. He’d like to believe that at his age, he was above sex for the sake of getting his rocks off. Chrissakes, he was thirty, not eighteen. He was a grown man with scruples. Or so he’d thought.

  Who was he fooling? Em had always been his weakness. There was something between them that would never dissipate. They hadn’t been right for one another. Their life plans had been too different. But the attraction was still just as electric. In another dozen years, she’d show back up and he’d want her just as much as he did now.

  Damn. What was the protocol for morning kitchen sex?

  He studied the creamy expanse of her back. Her wavy blonde hair was trapped in a ponytail and he wanted to see it down around her shoulders. It was soft and smelled of vanilla. It seemed to him she was refusing to look at him. What to say?

  “Em, are you okay?”

  “Fine.” She kept her face averted.

  He reached out to her, rubbing the small of her back. He did his best not to notice the perfect shape of her ass. “I didn’t invite you in for this. I swear.”

  She shrugged away from him and bent down to scoop up some of her discarded clothes. “No big deal, Jackson. It happened and that’s all.”

  It happened. He winced and pulled on his jeans. He didn’t know why, but he wanted her to know this wasn’t standard operating procedure for him. “Em, I don’t normally do this.”

  Her gaze met his. “I don’t really care if you do this every day, Jackson. The way you live your life is none of my business.”

  Ah. So they were going to pretend like they were strangers. Of course, in a way they were. He certainly didn’t know the woman she’d become any more than she knew the man he’d made himself into. But he couldn’t quell the slight sense of disappointment her reaction had on him.

  He threw his shirt over his head. “Well then maybe tomorrow I’ll pick up someone else to fuck in my kitchen. If you don’t mind, that is.”

  Emma was fully dressed by now. She lifted her shoulders with careless dismissal. “Be my guest.”

  He was rankled. “You expect me to believe this didn’t mean anything to you?”

  “Look, it was unexpected, but we’re both adults. There’s no reason why this should make things any different between us.”

  He’d forgotten how cold she could be, how easily she could turn off her emotions. Fine. He could play along with her. “Of course not. It was just great sex.”

  “Oh God.” She pressed her fingers to her temples. “You’re single, aren’t you? I didn’t even think to ask.”

  He raised a brow. “A little late to wonder now, wouldn’t you say, sugar?”

  She frowned at him. “I told you not to call me that.”

  Which was exactly why he did it. He found he rather enjoyed pissing her off. Jackson grinned. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

  “Don’t call me that either.” Emma crossed her arms over her breasts, an action that only served to remind him how firm and high they were. How he’d been sucking on them not fifteen minutes past. “Are you going to answer my question, or not?”

  Making her squirm was proving quite fun, but he supposed he had to give in. “I’m a single man, Em. I wouldn’t have touched you if I was with someone. Give me some credit.”

  She sighed. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

  Her face was so expressive. He read anxiety all over it. She wanted to run. He wasn’t about to let her flee him as if he’d developed a contagious disease. Jackson gave her a stare down.

  “No worries. I like being accused of cheating.”

  It was her turn to wince. “I’m sorry. You’re right, I was rude.”

  “Damn straight,” he agreed, giving her no quarter.

  “How gentlemanly of you not to point it out,” she said with a wry smile.

  Maybe he was honest to a fault, but he liked to call a spade a spade. “I’m too old to play games.”

  “So am I.” She sighed for the second time, this one sounding far more weary than the first. “I think it
would be best if I just go, Jackson. We’re talking in circles.”

  “How long are you in town?” He couldn’t help but ask. Some long-buried part of him wanted to see her again.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to see each other again.”

  Her proclamation shook him. He knew it probably wasn’t wise to have a fling with her, but he was sorely tempted. And he didn’t believe for a second he was the only one who felt that way. Was she afraid of the way he made her feel? Why was she forever running from him? He guessed he should be used to their tired old story by now.

  He shrugged. “Your choice. Sometimes it’s nice to not have to worry about strings.”

  “I don’t have casual sex,” she informed him coolly.

  “Interesting. Then what would you call what we just did?”

  “Stupidity. A one-time-only deal.”

  Now that stung, even if he had been thinking along the same lines not too long ago. “Is this ice queen routine something you only reserve for lowly country boys like me, or are you always a bitch?”

  He surprised her with that one, he could tell. Her eyes snapped with fire.

  “You’re every bit as much of an arrogant jerk now as you were when I left, Jackson Fielding.” Having delivered her final shot, she spun away from him. She turned back when she reached the door. “I hope I never see you again.” And then she slammed her way out.

  It wasn’t until after she was gone that he noticed her bra flung halfway across the room. Feeling unaccountably grim, he retrieved it. Damned if he didn’t hold it up to his nose for one last scent of her. Vanilla. It was hard to believe she still had the ability to get under his skin. Harder still to believe their frantic sex had even happened. It seemed like a dream.

  Tink whined from his crate in the mudroom, bringing Jackson back to earth. He hated that she could still tear him up. He hated that he still wanted her. Maybe his dog could distract him from his stupidity. It was worth a try, at least. Time to take Tink for a long, head-clearing walk.

  * * * * *

  She needed junk food and she needed it fast. There was only one way to cure what ailed her, and it involved ice cream and copious amounts of nacho cheese. Emma was in the frozen section of Taylor Markets, the only grocery store in Paradise. It looked exactly the same as she remembered, with low, open cases that had been in use since the seventies. They were still closed on Sundays. They still sold dollar lunches in their café. Some things never changed.

  Like the way she felt about Jackson.

  She wanted to kick herself. She’d been rude and cold, desperate to escape before she made any more of a fool of herself. Being with him had done strange things to her. She hated to admit that what she’d felt with him in his kitchen had been more than she’d felt in the year she’d been with Rob.

  Combined.

  It was truly a sad testament to the state of her personal life. She reached into the frozen case and liberated a pint of vanilla-caramel ice cream. What was wrong with her? She’d come back to Paradise to lie low, recuperate from the train wreck of a relationship she’d recently ended. She definitely hadn’t come back to relive her high school days. So how was it that she ended up naked with Jackson on her first day back in town?

  “Emma Lee, is that you?”

  She looked up from her thorough perusal of the ice cream selection to find her oldest friend Leah approaching her. She was pushing a shopping cart with a cute baby girl seated in the front.

  Genuine happiness filtered through her. “Leah, it’s so good to see you.”

  Over the years, they’d stayed in touch through email and social media, occasionally reaching out to one another. But this was the first time she’d seen Leah in person since high school. Time had been fair to her, she reflected. Her figure was great, especially considering the age of the toddler in her cart. She was still as pretty as ever, with dark, curly hair and bright-blue eyes.

  “Good to see you too, stranger.” Leah gave her a quick hug. “Why didn’t you tell me you were in town?”

  “It was kind of a last-minute decision,” she hedged, too embarrassed to reveal she’d needed to get away from L.A. in a hurry. After all, she hardly wanted to make a public service announcement that her boyfriend had been cheating on her.

  “How long have you been here?”

  “I got in last night.” She glanced back to the happily gurgling toddler. “Who is this?”

  “This is my daughter Ashley.”

  “She’s gorgeous, Leah. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.” She bestowed a proud-mama smile on her daughter. “I think she is too, but of course I’m partial.”

  For the first time, Emma experienced a twinge of envy. Maybe it was because she was turning the dreaded thirty and was still single and childless. Maybe it was because she’d started to notice laugh lines bracketing her eyes that no longer disappeared when her face was relaxed. Actually, it was probably a combination of many things. She couldn’t keep herself from wondering. What would it be like to have a comfortable, settled life with a man she loved?

  Jackson’s face flashed through her mind. Hold it right there. She was going to be locked away in a padded cell somewhere if she kept this up. Emma was losing it.

  She dragged her mind back to the conversation. “It’s great to see you. We should do lunch while I’m here.”

  “I’d love that.” Leah’s smile was genuine, so different from the injected and whitened barracuda grins she’d come to expect from ladies who lunch in L.A.

  In some ways, coming back home wasn’t as difficult as she’d thought it would be. Though it scared her to admit it, there were aspects of life in Paradise she’d missed. Gasp. If her inner monologue had had a sound track, it would’ve played screeching brakes. What the hell was wrong with her?

  They exchanged numbers with promises to text in the next few days to set up a concrete time and place. Emma was only slightly ashamed of the heart attack-inducing contents of her shopping basket. Luckily, Leah didn’t comment on it before she went on her way.

  That didn’t, however, preclude the gum chewing, super-pierced teen manning the checkout from speaking her mind. Much to Emma’s dismay.

  “This looks like my cousin’s last splurge before she went to fat camp,” the girl observed as she ran a bag of frozen onion rings across the scanner. “You gonna eat all this yourself?”

  Emma fought and lost a battle against mortification. She forced a smile. “Sure am. I’m treating myself.”

  The clerk’s eye makeup looked as if it had been applied by a wily band of raccoons. Black eyeliner was liberally smudged everywhere. A tiny diamond stud winked from her right nostril. She ran the last item, a now melting tub of ice cream, across the belt. “Well, have a great time then. Will that be cash, credit or debit?”

  “I will,” Emma gritted. “And it will be cash.”

  She paid the girl, grabbed her bags, and hightailed it out of the store feeling as if a cloud of infamy followed her. She told herself that even if she was bingeing on food, at least she wasn’t suffering from a massive teenage forehead breakout.

  By the time her mama found her a few hours later, she was bawling her eyes out while watching a movie she’d last seen when she was a sophomore at Paradise High. There was evidence of her food extravaganza all over the coffee table.

  “Emma Lee, what on earth is wrong with you?” her mother demanded. “Where did all this food come from?”

  “The grocery store,” Emma answered around a mouthful of deep-fried cheese sticks. So much for watching her diet.

  Mama slapped her hands on her hips and glared at her. “Did something happen between you and Jackson?”

  Sweet Lord in heaven. Something was such an understatement. Something was way off the mark, in fact. A bout of wild, life-changing sex had happened. But she couldn’t tell her mother that. God no. She’d sooner go through the checkout back at Taylor Markets with a whole new supply of pig-out food.

  “Nothing at all,
” she lied with a fake smile. “I dropped him off just like you asked, and then I picked up a few things at the grocery store.”

  Her mother narrowed her eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

  How was it that twenty-four hours in her childhood home could make her feel like a tween sneaking cigarettes after school? “Don’t believe me if you don’t want. It’s true, though.”

  “Good. Then you won’t be upset that I invited him for dinner tonight.”

  She sat up, crumbs skittering to the floor unnoticed. “What?”

  “I invited Jackson over for dinner.” Her mother winked. “It’ll be like old times.”

  She’d had more than enough of old times this morning. It was all the proof she needed they couldn’t interact as mature adults. They were either bickering or having insane sex, neither of which was productive or a good idea.

  “Mama, I came here to get away from people and spend some quality time with you,” she protested. “I don’t want to have dinner with my high school boyfriend. I can’t even stand him.”

  Okay, so that was the biggest lie she’d told so far. But her mother didn’t need to know that.

  “Oh honey.” Her mother sat next to her on the sofa and slid a comforting arm around her shoulders. “I know you’re upset about that awful ex-boyfriend of yours, but it’s not good to hide away from the world. You have to snap out of this blue mood. Besides, I’m fixing my famous beef brisket. Been working on it since yesterday. It’s too much for just you and me.”

  Mama’s beef brisket was legendary and delicious. She hadn’t had it in years. “I don’t eat meat,” she offered. “I can’t eat beef brisket.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her mother flicked her platinum hair in a faux innocent gesture. “I didn’t realize cheese sticks were a diet plan.”

  It was Emma’s turn to pin her mother with a narrowed glare. “Whatever. I’m on vacation.”

  “Then you can eat my beef brisket.”

  “Not if Jackson is coming for dinner I can’t.”