The Wager (The Bet #2)

“I know.”


“So… on a scale of one to ten…” Jake reached out and touched her shoulders, running his hands down her arms. “One being the worst moment of your life, and ten being, best…”

“Six.” Char said honestly. “To be fair you’d had tequila.”

“Damn.” Jake said. “I must have really been losing my touch.”

“I had nothing to compare it to.”

Jake’s hands froze on her arms. “You mean you had no one to compare it to? Or you decided not to compare me because I was that bad?”

And there it was. Part of the reason she’d lost her heart to him, then and forever. “I um, sort of, don’t have anyone to compare it to.”

Jake swore and touched his forehead to hers. “I’m a jackass. I didn’t know. I mean, like you said, lots of tequila and—”

“It’s all right.” Char kissed him softly.

“No.” He jerked back. “It’s not all right. It’s a damn shame; that’s what it is.” Before Char could say anything more he’d lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. “It should be life altering. Earth moving. Mind numbing. It should be about feeling every single touch of my fingertips.” He trailed his fingers from the tip of her bra all the way down the middle of her stomach. “Your muscles should constrict every time my breath fans over your face. Your body should literally arch toward me, it should beg for my touch, and mine should be selfless enough to give you what you need before I even begin to think about myself.”

Char whimpered as he pulled his shirt over his head and hovered over her. “Sex can be mindless or it can be mindful. It can become habitual, or it can be just about getting off. It can be entirely selfish. But I’ve decided I don’t want to have sex anymore.”

“What?” Some of the passion dissipated from Char’s consciousness. “What do you mean?”

“I want to make love,” Jake whispered. “With you. I don’t want it to be purely physical. I need it to be spiritual, because with you, it’s so much more, Char. It’s everything. Maybe to you it will be something else, but for me…” Jake shook his head and kissed her hard on the mouth. “I’ve jumped out of the boat. Come with me?”

“Already there.” Char wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to cover her body. She could only imagine how amazing being with him was going to be after that speech.





Chapter Forty-nine


A virgin. She had been a virgin. He’d used her as a one-night stand, and in the process could have ruined the perfect girl. The most amazing girl, his soul mate.

Jake placed a tender kiss on her forehead and pulled back.

“Where are you going?” Char asked.

“Nowhere.” He said, and he meant it. He wasn’t going anywhere, not unless she was by his side. He dropped his pants to the floor and approached the bed. Char’s eyes took him in. Damn, he could watch her all day. Her chestnut hair spilled over her lacy red bra. She did buy some lingerie. She wore it well, too well, if the black spots invading his vision were any indication. He was going to lose his damn mind if he couldn’t have her—now.

He knelt over her on the bed. “I have something to tell you.”

“Oh yeah?” Char trembled beneath his touch. He reached for her hand and sucked on her finger.

“I’ve been jealous of this finger for the past hour. Hell, I was jealous of whipped cream.”

She moaned. “And now?”

“Now, I want to lick all of you.”

He placed his hands on her hips. “Every last inch… Nothing goes untouched…”

“Nothing?” Her eyebrows arched.

“Nothing,” he repeated, taking her mouth captive. He pressed her into the bed and kissed her soundly, drinking her in, and in that moment realized her taste would be forever etched onto his person. Everything about her was the perfect match for him; he’d just been too blind to see it before. And now, he was never letting her go.

His lips met hers softly as he pressed his body against her warmth, but at her sigh he pulled back. “What’s wrong?”

“What changed?”

Words wouldn’t come. So not only had he officially lost his game, but he was unable to communicate one of the most necessary elements of his existence.

Char’s eyes fluttered closed. When they opened again, moisture had pooled in their depths.

Jake held her face in his hands and said very softly, “I did. I changed.”

Her brow furrowed.

“It was me, not you. You’ve always been constant. Whether you wanted to stab me or kiss me, you’ve never changed. It’s me; I’m different.”

“Just like that?” Char sounded skeptical.