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“Like what kind of rules?” Her voice is timid, cute even, because the idea of setting guidelines for dating makes her so nervous.
“For example, maybe you shouldn’t sleep with the guy just because he calls you beautiful. Or because he winks at you. Or because he buys you a drink.”
There’s a short gasp heard through the phone line. “How did you know about the winking?”
“Sweetheart, we all know about the winking. And it’s clear that you’re beautiful, but that doesn’t mean you’re cheap.”
Another short gasp. “You think I’m beautiful?”
“Don’t do that,” I warn, actually lifting the phone to my ear. “Don’t get that excited tone in your voice.”
“There’s no excitement in my tone.”
“Jules, you’re beautiful, you’re intelligent, and you’re the woman of my dreams. I want to have mind-blowing, intimate sex with you,” I whisper. Then I snicker when her car swerves, knowing my words struck a nerve and threw her off kilter.
I can almost feel the warmth in her blushing cheeks and see her smile through the receiver. I wasn’t lying—she is beautiful. She has these kind-hearted blue eyes that smile all on their own, without instruction. Her wild, crazy blond curls bounce when she walks, and gently sway when she’s still. Her hair actually reminds me of the sun, the way the room lights up when those curls walk in. Her cheeks are high, her ass looks great in a pair of jeans, and she doesn’t overdo the makeup. Not to mention, she has a handful up top that any man would be lucky to hold.
When it comes to physical traits, on a scale of one to ten, Jules Stone is a solid fifty. It’s no surprise that guys are instantly attracted to her in the first place—she’s hot as hell. I’m disappointed that she’s so sensitive and a little crazy, too. If she weren’t, I’m pretty sure more guys might have been interested in taking her out, instead of just wanting to bang her.
“What else should I know?” She wonders out loud, but I’m not quite sold on the fact that she’s speaking to me. “What would make a guy want to stay with me?”
I sigh, a bit annoyed with how needy she sounds. “Why do you need a guy in the first place?”
“A girl spends her whole life wanting to be in love. I grew up with these ideas, and I see others having what I wish I had. A hand to hold, a shoulder to cry on, a prince to save me. I just want to be saved. I want to be somebody’s princess.”
I know this is Disney’s fault. “Can I be frank with you?” I ask but don’t wait for her reply. “There’s no castle. There’s no one galloping in on a white horse. There’s no prince who’s going to show up and save you. What you need to do is save yourself.”
“How do I do that?”
“Simple. You realize you don’t need saving.”
“Ugh. It must be so easy being a guy, never falling head over heels, never putting down your shield of protection from heartbreak.”
I chuckle at her comment, noticing that it’s all too wrong. “We fall and have heartbreaks, too. We just don’t spend the next few years reliving those days on repeat wondering what we could have done differently. We simply get drunk, have meaningless sex, and
move on.”
“Ha! See that’s the problem! When you guys are having meaningless sex, we girls are having hopeful sex! Hoping for a second date, a second call, and a second everything. You guys are making us hopefuls meaningless.”
“Which takes us back to rule number one—don’t sleep with us because we call you beautiful.”
I can almost see her smile through the cell phone. “Touché.”
“All right, Jules. I’m gonna hang up. The snow’s coming down faster, and I would feel more comfortable getting you to your personal hell in one piece.”
“Okay, but Kayden?” Her voice jumps an octave in a question mark and I wait for her thoughts. “Thank you. For doing this.”
Before I can reply, she hangs up. I look at the back of her head in the driver’s seat in the car in front of me and I let a sigh move though my lungs. She’s tousling her hair around, running her fingers through the locks, and for a second I want to be running my hands through it, finding the gentle spots behind her ear, licking her body from the tip of her toes to the curve of her neck. She’s weird as fuck, but I bet she can transform that weirdness into some awesome sex moves…
The bulge forming in my jeans snaps me back to reality. Wait, what?! Stop. What in the goddamn hell am I talking about? Bad, Kayden, bad! I can’t have these types of thoughts about Jules. I can’t want to push her against the hood of the car and press into her, forcing moans to escape closed lips. I can’t allow the melting snow to run down her body as I wipe up each wet spot with my tongue. This is business and mixing business with pleasure is bad form...Right?
I will not bang my boss. I will not bang my boss.
Ah hell. I still want to bang my boss.
We pull our cars over to fill up on gas, and all I can from the pump behind her is stare at her perfect ass. The way she handles the pump is way too much of a turn on for me, which is awkward, so I force my eyes to shift away from her.
“I’ll cover your ass, too,” she says, looking toward me with those eyes. I blink through the snowflakes hitting my eyelashes and try to understand what the hell she just said. She sees my confusion and smiles, speaking louder. “I said I’ll cover your gas. Just let me know how much it is.”
