Love is a Battlefield (DreamMakers #2)

Jack shrugged. “Have it your way.”


He planted his butt on the bench, all without letting go of her. She had a position of authority over him, staring down with her arms firmly crossed. Or at least it seemed authoritative until she realized his legs were wide open and she was standing between them, and the position of her arms lifted her breasts in line to his direct gaze.

Fine. If he wanted to stare at her tits they could have this conversation while the girls were in the way.

“What did you do to Billy?” she demanded.

“Read this.” Jack held out his cell phone.

She grabbed it from his hand and checked the screenshot. “What is this? Some of your bathroom humor?”

“Messages forwarded from Dean’s phone.”

“Ha! Why am I not surprised?” She thrust the phone back at him.

He caught her by the hips and held her immobile, the position too damn intimate, especially when the images he’d raised the other day in the gazebo flashed back.

If she stepped on the bench, feet on either side of him, he’d be able to do all those things he’d taunted her about—and she wasn’t stupid. He hadn’t been talking about Kendra at all. She was the one he wanted to go down on, and when he moistened his lips, all she could think about was his tongue slipping into intimate places.

A whole lot quieter now, Jack locked his eyes with hers and refused to let her look away. ““Read the damn messages. All of them.”

She had no choice but to obey. The rising sense of ick rolled to outright nausea as the text messages got dirtier, and when the fourth one mentioned Penny, she froze.

Oh my God. “That fucker.”

“Keep reading,” Jack insisted, but his grip on her hips had loosened. No longer trapping her in place, his fingers rubbing lightly as if he couldn’t resist touching her.

The dirty messages stopped, switching to messages from Jack to Billy.

Touch her, and you die.

Who is this? How did you get my number?

Jack Hunter. I’m Penny’s boyfriend, and I’ll be there in five minutes. Run.

Good grief. Pepper’s mood flipped between exasperation and relief. “I didn’t ask you to rescue me,” she pointed out.

“The guy was bragging to Dean about fucking you. And I didn’t rescue you, I just kind of hurried along what would’ve happened before too long anyway. Because he’s not the guy for you.”

He had that right. Her frustration and bluster faded. “Okay, I’ll say it. Your methods are unorthodox, but this time, thank you.” And again she became ultra aware of his hands holding her, and that wasn’t good, because he and she were just…

Were just…

Oh God, she had to get out of there. She shifted her weight from side to side. “I’ll see you at the office.”

“What’s your rush?” The tension in his body changed, as if he was aware that his earlier actions were no longer the most important item on her agenda. Now the relentless tingles spreading from where his open fingers had slipped back to cradle her butt had her in danger of setting off a power outage over the entire city quadrant.

He kept touching her, but his gaze stayed locked on hers. She couldn’t even get mad at him for being a hound dog and staring at her body. “Stop looking at me like that,” she ordered.

Or, she meant to order—the words slipped out more like she was pleading with him to never stop.

“Looking at you like what?” he asked.

“Like you’re hungry.”

Full pause. Utter silence. Then…

“You’re right, I should stop. Because I’m not hungry.” He shifted his hips to the front of the bench, pulling her toward him until the fronts of their bodies made contact. “I’m starving,” he confessed.

It was the perfect moment for a smartass response, but her vocal cords seemed to be frozen. Every heartbeat intense enough to shake her body.

It took forever to get a single word out. “Jack.”

His lips twitched. “Pepper.”

She was desperate to get some moisture back to her mouth, and his gaze finally slipped to her lips as she licked them, the heat in his dark brown eyes flashing like the first moment of flint against steel. “Jack…”

“Pepper. Are you going to let me take a bite?” His words were a husky growl that made goose bumps rise.

He was making her decide? Right now she had the brain capacity of a gnat. Good thing it seemed to be a rhetorical question because he rose to his feet, magically taking her with him. She clung to him, her legs instinctively closing around his body as her skirt rode up. He adjusted her, supporting her weight with one arm.

The other arm moved higher until his strong fingers wrapped around the back of her neck. Her breasts were crushed against his powerful chest, their lips only inches apart.

Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, although it was unlikely she could move him in any direction. Those beautiful eyes burned her with their intensity.