AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I hate that you’re making me go.”
“I’m not making you do anything,” I snipped. So much for distracting him with my womanly wiles. He’d told me no all the time. He could’ve refused and I would’ve gone alone… if he let me.
“Come on. You know I didn’t have a choice. I had to come.” He sealed his lips to mine and silenced me. His tongue slipped into my mouth, and all I could do was enjoy his attention. Relish this moment of peace and closeness. Lord knew once we got to Burntwood, we wouldn’t have a moment alone.
He captured my bottom lip between his teeth, sending a zing spearing through my core and excitement bloomed. But before I soaked my panties, he pulled away, ending our lip-lock.
“Are you sure your dad won’t come out with his shotgun and rush us to the altar?”
“Jake, be nice. I’m a grown woman. My parents respect my choices and would never interfere in my life.” I rolled my eyes, not appreciating his snark. “But you will be sleeping in the barn. They’re old school.”
“Seriously?” He visibly tensed in front of me.
“I’m kidding.” I shook my head and laughed as I swept my gaze around the busy airport. Jake had to have known I was joking. He was just stressed like dozens of other travelers.
“Shit, Shelby. I was about to bolt,” he hissed, exasperation in his voice.
Nice going, Shell.
“I’m sorry, babe. But if you left, you wouldn’t get to make love to me in the hayloft.” As the words left my lips, instant mortification followed. I would do anything to yank them back into my stupid mouth. How could I mention Cade’s and my spot?
“Are you serious this time or joking again?” His eyes smoldered with intrigue, and it softened me… and confused the hell out of me. Jake would never enter a barn.
“I'm serious. Wanna experience where country kids have sex?” I studied his face, scrutinizing every crease around his eyes and wrinkles in his forehead. Like always, I couldn’t tell if he was messing with me.
How would I dig myself out of this pile of cow dung? Doing it in the hayloft had been my fantasy in high school after Cade had taken my virginity. Nottaken. I’d freely given myself to him, begged for him to deflower me for months before I’d worn him down. After our first few times, I’d wanted to do it everywhere, sort of leaving our mark throughout Burntwood like dogs pissing on fire hydrants.
Stupid, girl. Why’d you mention the hayloft?
I’m an idiot. Why do I let Jake confuse me when his personality flips on a dime?
“You know I’m always up for a good time, but barns are laden with filthy germs. But I might be willing to give it a go in the airport. Got any fantasies you want me to make real?” he rasped in a lustful tone.
“I’m intrigued by your suggestion.” I snorted and shook my head. When did Jake Phillips become a comedian? This man would never have sex anywhere other than at his place where he knew it was sterile.
He reached his hand behind my neck and pulled me into a desire-filled kiss. That little move always got me hot and bothered. At times it seemed calculated, like he only wanted to shut me up when frustrated with me. But I’d learned it was also his tell—he wanted me.
“Follow me.” He ended the kiss and stood, reaching his hand out.
I was nonplussed by his suggestion. Who was this guy?
“What? You think I’m joking?”
“Yes I do.” I studied him, trying to read his face. He had the best doggone deadpan expression I’d ever seen. And then…
Our flight number was called and dozens of people jumped out of their seats and formed a line.
“You took too long to respond and now we’re out of time.” Jake rose to his feet, a smug curl to his lips, almost like he it all worked out the way he’d hoped.
I pursed my lips tightly, still trying to figure out if he’d been serious or not. “Ever heard of the mile high club?” I waggled my brows. It was worth a shot asking, just in case he’d grown an adventurous bone in the last ten seconds.
“Sure, I’ve heard of it. But Shell, I’d never fuck you on a public plane.” He feigned gagging. “Should’ve let me get my own so I could have it disinfected properly.” He stalked away, leaving me with a gaping mouth.
I followed him, wholly exasperated. “Still salty, are you?”
“It’s whatever.” He shrugged.
“If I hadn’t bought the tickets, you would’ve conveniently forgotten to charter a plane.” I knew his game. He’d become Mr. Forgetful when he didn’t want to do something.
