One Touch Read online

Page 5


  "How about you and me go somewhere for a drink when this little shindig is over, babe?"

  Unsuccessfully, she tried to put some distance between them, turning her face from the kiss he tried to plant on her lips so that he ended up swiping a wet line across her cheek.

  Just then she turned and caught sight of Jake across the room near the French doors. He was talking to Tom and looking furious. At her. What was up with that? Surely he didn't think she was encouraging Bill. And anyway, what business was it of his?

  Her hands on Bill's arms, she tried to push herself away.

  "Come on, babe. Don't fight it. You like me, I can tell. Just let go."

  "No, Bill. I don't want..."

  "Ahh, Bill, I think you might want to reconsider...” Rachael tried to warn him just as a large hand dropped onto Bill's shoulder.

  Bill turned quickly, looking into the thunderous visage of one Jake Reilly.

  "The lady said no, Bill. I suggest you take her at her word."

  "Butt out, Reilly. This has nothing to do with you."

  "Oh, but that's where you're wrong, boy-o. The lady is with me. So kindly be takin’ your hands off her. Now."

  Cass knew that Bill Turner thought he was God's gift to the female population, but he also wasn't stupid. One look at Jake's face was enough for him to back off, back away, and get the hell out of Dodge. Heck, Cass would have been scared, too, if that murderous look had been directed at her. Which was quite beside the point...

  "Just what was that all about, Jake? Did I look like I needed saving? And what gave you the right..."

  "I told you before. Tonight you're mine. That means all night."

  "And while we're on the subject,” she started, eyes flashing, “who gave you the right..."

  Further words were cut off when he placed a finger over her lips, effectively silencing her. “Don't fight me tonight, darlin'."

  Even though the words were offered gently and the familiar grin on his face should have calmed her, she didn't miss the underlying tension in his tone or the sparks in his eyes. He was mad about something, but for the life of her she had no idea what it was.

  She had a feeling she was about to find out...

  Chapter Five

  Cass opened one heavy-lidded eye and looked at the clock beside the bed. The green numbers shone bright enough in the darkness for her to read even without her glasses on. 4:30am. Time for a couple more hours sleep, she thought dreamily.

  A warm, delicious feeling surrounded her, like being wrapped in cotton wool. It was so enticing, she almost purred. Thinking to roll over, she stilled the second she realised not only was she not in her own bed at home, but she wasn't alone.

  Frozen in place, the blanketing fog of sleep cleared and she came fully awake with a rush. The soft tickle of a warm breath on the back of her neck nearly made her jump into next week. A frisson of panic rose up and lodged in her throat.

  How the hell had she ended up here? Consciously clearing the remaining fog from her head, she tried to piece the night together and sort out fact from fantasy even though the edges were kind of fuzzy.

  They had gone back to the hotel, changed in their rooms and met again in the bar downstairs. Ending up in his room was a blur. She closed her eyes and concentrated, trying to put the pieces of the night back together like a jigsaw that had one piece too many missing. Too much alcohol and way too many hormones.

  As she made to move, she became aware of a small obstacle blocking her escape. Actually, not so small. A large, warm, calloused hand cupped her breast possessively from behind and held her firm against the warm body it was attached to.

  In an erotic torrent, graphic images of the night before she tumbled into a sounder sleep than she'd had in years, hit her like a sledgehammer. Heat flooded through her, from the roots of her very mussed, long brown hair to the tips of her already curling toes, overturning the icy chill of recognition just moments ago.

  The hotel. The bar. Tom and Rach ... oh, and don't forget Jake. Four ... or was it five Midoris? Either way, it was at least three too many. She knew she didn't drink often enough to be able to hold that sort of alcohol, but her nerves had been shot and the Midoris had helped. At least, that was what she had thought at the time.

  Which brought her back to her current situation. As Jake's hand absently rubbed against a sensitive nipple, the night replayed itself over in her mind in a rapid flicker of mental snapshots that made her heart pound...

  A soft kiss in the elevator that soon turned into a torrid fight for breath ... Barely making it inside his room before her panties were ripped from her, his fly unzipped ... Pushed hard up against the door, held in place only by his strength and her legs clenched around his waist as he buried himself deep inside her weeping pussy with a harsh groan...

  Jake suspended over her, his strong arms supporting that finely muscled chest, the hungry look in his diamond-sharp blue eyes as they held her captive, unable to look away, forcing her to focus on the steady thrust and withdraw of his body against hers...

  His hands gripping her hips as she kneeled in front of him on her hands and knees, the almost savage pounding of his body against hers as she wantonly begged him for faster, harder, deeper, more. Giving her every glorious inch of that hard, throbbing cock so that she was stretched, filled and completely possessed ... tormented into a screaming, shattering climax...

  Later, after resting and the curious exploration of each other that lovers do, Jake in control, the soft, tender words and encouragement he had murmured to her as he slowly stroked deeper and deeper inside ... Holding her climax at bay for so long she was crying and pleading with him for release ... Jake moaning out her name as the feel of her pulsing around him had shattered his control and he exploded inside her in a hot torrent.

  She was panting. Oh, my God. Just thinking about it and she was panting. That was not just good sex. It went way beyond that. And even though she had no yardstick to measure it by, she was sure that it was not the norm, not by any stretch of the imagination.

  Jake nestled closer against her, snapping her out of her lustful remembrances. That was a cock she felt pushing up against the crevice of her ass. And by the feel of it, it was getting harder by the second.

  This was not good. It was soooooo not good.

  How ... why was it that she had managed to avoid every man who even looked twice at her for five years, yet after a few drinks with Jake she willingly tumbled, fell, lurched and stumbled into bed with him? Good going, Cass. Now what the hell are you going to do?

  She closed her eyes tightly, trying to think, trying to push the memory of his naked body out of her mind. That didn't work. In her traitorous mind's eye, she could run her gaze over every detail of his body ... his hot, very naked body. God, but the man was built. Michelangelo's David was a pre-pubescent teenager compared to Jake.

  Okay, she must still be dreaming. Please let her be dreaming ... Maybe she was having a flashback or something. She pinched herself hard just to make sure. She winced at the twinge of pain. No. Not dreaming. There would probably be a bruise there later just to remind her that she was partway to losing her marbles.

  Her logical mind was having trouble believing what she had done. Her body had no such qualms and seemed determined to ready itself for more fun and games if that new dampness between her legs was anything to go by.

  That settled it. She had to go—had to get out of there now! If she was still there when Jake woke up ... She wasn't stupid. She knew what would happen. Whatever logical reasons her head gave for not doing so; her sex-starved body would totally ignore them and lay itself open in complete surrender, her legs doing the biggest parting since Moses and the Red Sea.

  The heady scent of sex still lingered all around them, encouraged by the warmth of their bodies, and an innate part of her ached to stay right where she was. How many times over the years had she craved this, dreamed about it? Even now, her nipple had hardened under the palm that cupped it. Completely ignoring her br
ain, her body was like a walking advertisement for sex with Jake.

  An enveloping heat warmed her back and she could feel the dampness starting to trickle down her thigh as she contemplated the man who now held her so intimately, and so damn close. It was as if he belonged there and she did, too.

  What was it about him that made her act the way she did? The only man she had ever slept with, and both times she had fallen into bed with him like she was the village tart.

  After Chloe's birth she had decided to go on the pill. Just in case ... She certainly had no intentions of being a single mother to more than one child. The first time was innocence; any more than that would have been stupidity. But after five years of an unintentional celibacy that would have done Mother Theresa proud, just in case had turned into just as well.

  Aaah, Jake. What is it about you? Why is it so hard to say no?

  It was his touch. She knew it. Like at the wedding ceremony. Every single time it fried her brain so that her body was just one big nerve ending, screaming with sensation.

  Which was why she had to leave. Now. Before she never wanted to leave ever again. And that would just lead to hurt. Jake was out of her league and she'd known that for a long time. Plus, it wasn't just her she had to consider now...

  Chloe.

  She wondered what Jake would say if he knew he had a cute little daughter who was the spitting image of him. The same bright blue eyes and the long blonde hair. There were times when Chloe looked a certain way ... when she was mad or sad or teasing, that the expression was pure Jake. Every single time it made her heart clench. But Jake didn't want kids. Perhaps, if ... no, it wasn't fair to any of them, especially Chloe, to open up that Pandora's box. Best just to let things stay as they were.

  Carefully, she tried again to extricate herself from his hold. He snuffled and murmured in his sleep as she tried to lift his arm and slide out from under it, but then froze, her heart thudding in her chest. The last thing she needed was an awakened Jake deciding to go another round on the fucking merry-go-round.

  She groaned silently and bit her lip. Muscles she hadn't used since she gave up gymnastics as a teenager, and a few others that she was sure had never been used, ached at the slightest movement.

  Some mental synapses were obviously still firing in spite of the sex-induced mental lethargy and she had the brilliant idea to substitute her warm body with her warm pillow. Maybe, if she was lucky, he wouldn't notice her body missing ... at least until she got out the door.

  Her balance wasn't great. Her head swam as she got up off the bed and she had to grab the bedside cupboard for support to stop from toppling. She must have had a whole lot more to drink than she thought.

  With some difficulty in the dark, unfamiliar room, she managed to locate all her clothes. They had been tossed helter-skelter as she and Jake had frantically scrambled to undress each other. At least hers were still in one piece. Thank God. She could have sworn she remembered the sound of ripping cloth, which could only mean ... oh good going, Cass—you ripped the guy's clothes off. Well done. He probably thinks you're a raving nymphomaniac.

  She turned to leave but couldn't resist one more wistful look at the man in the bed. For all that once could have been, but now never would be. The subtle illumination of the clock was just enough for her to see the slightly too-long honey blond hair, now mussed from sleep and the effects of her fingers, the strong jaw line, now with a hint of morning stubble. But it was the lips, generous and slightly puffy, that had kissed her in places that even now made her blush. She ran her tongue over her own. They felt like his looked. His large, well-muscled body was stretched out, almost filling the bed. No wonder she'd slept as though she was in a cocoon with that body wrapped around her. Knowing she shouldn't, but unable to resist, she leaned over to kiss him lightly and, knowing it would be the last time, inhaled the heady scent of aftershave and sex. As she touched his lips, he murmured in his sleep, his mouth turning up into a soft smile.

  Mmmm to you, too, she thought to herself, and then turned and quietly let herself out.

  * * * *

  Jake stretched. He felt fucking fantastic. Until he opened his eyes. And realised he was in bed—alone.

  He sat bolt upright, dropped the pillow he was cuddling and looked around. No Cassie. He had only had a couple of beers the night before, so he knew he hadn't dreamt her being with him. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he padded through to the bathroom. Not finding her in there, he stood in the middle of the room and ran his fingers through his hair, a low growl slipping past his lips.

  Where the fuck had she gone? And why did she leave?

  What they had shared last night had been more amazing than anything he had felt with any other woman, his ex-wife included. Coming inside her had been like coming home. Even now, his morning erection throbbed painfully with need of her.

  Well, no matter. She wouldn't get away from him this time. Not again. No fucking way. They hadn't even had a chance to talk. That had been his intention on bringing her back to his room in the early hours of the morning, but other things had kind of gotten in the way. It hadn't helped that he'd caught her looking at him like she wanted to eat him up. He would defy any man to be able to resist that! So, the first driving need had been for him to get inside her as quickly as humanly possible. He'd had every intention of them talking just as soon as he took the edge of his insane craving for her. Okay. So that hadn't happened after the first, second or third times, and he suspected that if they had stayed awake long enough for a fourth or a fifth, the need would have been just as overwhelming, which worried him.

  Perhaps he had been too rough. What if he had hurt her? He cringed at the thought, filled with remorse. She had been so tight. Almost like a virgin, and he remembered extremely well what that had been like. He had been less than gentle that night as well. What happened to his blasted control when he was with her? All he wanted to do was rut on her like a beast out of control. He had to talk to her now, try to explain.

  Hastily pulling on a pair of jeans, he grabbed the phone and dialled reception, pacing impatiently until a professional voice answered.

  "Yeah, Cass Grant's room, please."

  "I'm sorry, sir, but Ms. Grant checked out an hour ago."

  "She what?"

  "Yes, sir. Will there be anything else?"

  "No. No. That's all.” His shoulders slumped, the air leaving his lungs in an angry sigh. “Thanks,” he said curtly, dropping the phone in the cradle and his head into his hands.

  Damn it! Damn it all to hell!

  Chapter Six

  Jake sat on his deck watching the sun come up over the watery horizon, a big red ball foretelling the heat to come later in the day. Already, he was nursing his third cup of coffee for the morning. Unable to sleep with dreams of Cassie plaguing him, he had been up since 4 am. But today was Saturday, so he didn't care because it wasn't as if he had to work today.

  Unable to sit still any longer, he changed into shorts and running shoes and walked the short distance down to the beach to go for a jog.

  The initial easy pace and steady pounding of his feet along the hard-packed sand changed to an all-out sprint the more he reflected on his frustration and inability to find Cassie. In the two weeks since his sister's wedding he had tried everything he could think of to find her. Each time he had drawn a blank and had sunk a little deeper into depression. If only Lizzy would get back from her honeymoon, he could ask her.

  Breathing hard, he slowed to a jog again, eventually stopping and leaning over, hands on his knees, taking in huge gulps of air. Once his breathing evened out a little, he stripped off his shoes and walked out into the water, diving under the foam of a breaking wave to cool off.

  He still had no idea what to do, but at least he felt a damn sight less aggravated than he had. With a quick rinse off under the shower near the parking lot, he headed home.

  The phone was ringing as he tossed off his shoes at the front door and wandered back through the hou
se. He decided to let the machine answer it. It was probably work-related and he didn't feel like talking to anyone—business or not.

  A loud rumble reminded him how hungry he was and he wandered through to the kitchen, grabbing some eggs from the fridge as he went. With half an ear, he listened to the message being left as he cracked an egg on the side of the bowl. He froze. That voice! He almost laughed as he heard the warm, sexy sound.

  Hello.

  This is Cassandra Grant.

  My house was badly damaged in the storm and I was wondering if you'd have time to put in a quote...

  My number is...

  Or, if you prefer, my address is...

  I'll be home all day if you have time to call in...

  After nearly going crazy trying to get hold of his sweet Cassie for the last fortnight, the mountain had ironically come to Mohammed.

  Jake's company, Rowling Constructions, was named after its previous owner and his now-retired boss, Gary. When Gary had decided to pack it in and head up the east coast, deciding the time was right to spend some of his hard-earned money lying on a beach in North Queensland with his lovely wife, Minnie, Jake had jumped at the chance to buy the company. It had a good name and a strong customer base, but most of all, he knew the people—customers and employees alike—very well.

  The business, already reasonably successful, had boomed since he took over. The company had a good reputation on the Northern Beaches for doing quality work at a reasonable price. But a lot of people thought Gary still owned the company. He guessed that was why Cassie had called. He suspected that if she had known he was now the man behind Rowling Constructions, she wouldn't have called him this side of doomsday.

  Just that knowledge was enough to wipe the cocky smile off his face. The initial anger he felt after she disappeared on him had toned down to a slow simmer and then to confusion. Whatever she was running from, it had better not be him. It crossed his mind again that he may have hurt her. If that were the case, he would do whatever it took to make it up to her.