Right Kind of Wrong Read online

  And I’ve been burning ever since.

  9

  Jenna

  I absently turn the fake diamond band on my ring finger and frown into the dark. The day I met Jack also happened to be the first day I’d ever worn my grandmother’s gris-gris ring. When Jack asked about the ring earlier, I realized, for the first time, that the day I started wearing the gris-gris ring was the same day we met—and a thick combination of fear and hope knotted my stomach at the realization.

  But there was no way in hell I was going to let Jack know that. He’d probably just use it as a sign that we’re supposed to be together. And it’s not a sign. It’s not.

  The ring had nothing to do with Jack’s attraction to me—or mine to him.

  If anything, it was Jack’s voice that first drew me in. Long before his silver eyes took me captive, long before his art-stained skin named him my comrade, the sound of Jack’s voice poured into my ears and dripped down my spine, melting me one syllable at a time, until the sound of him was permanently embedded in my being.

  The first time I heard him speak was my second day at the Thirsty Coyote, back when Jack used to work there. I was straining for a bottle of high-end tequila on a shelf just out of my reach when his voice brushed over me from behind.

  “We have stepladders for this very reason,” he said in that husky tone that is uniquely Jack.

  I spun around to face a tall, dark, and handsome heartthrob and tried not to react to how attractive he was.

  “Yeah, well. What fun is a ladder when I can earn the satisfaction of grabbing it on my own?” I hopped up, nearly grasping the bottle before landing, then jumped again.

  He glanced at the bar top crammed with patrons. “I’m sure our customers think watching you jump up and down is more fun too.” I stopped jumping as he easily lifted the bottle from its shelf.

  “See, this way,” he said, handing it to me, “I don’t have to worry about you knocking the bottle down and breaking it. There’s no risk.”

  I shrugged. “And no satisfaction.”

  A slow grin stretched out his face. “I’m Jack, by the way. Your new trainer.”

  I didn’t flinch but inside all I could think was how fan-fucking-tastic it was that I’d just sassed off to the guy I was going to be stuck training with for the next two weeks.

  But then Jack started talking about bar menus and scheduling policies and all I could think about was how I was ever going to learn anything from this beautiful man when he kept talking to me with that voice of his. That raspy, deep, alluring voice. But I did, eventually, learn a thing or two from Jack.

  And some of it was even work-related.

  A few months later, Jack got a job as a bartender at a nicer bar, which meant batter pay, and he quit the Thirsty Coyote. He’s finishing his master’s in psychology because he wants to be a counselor for at-risk kids—I know; he’s too good to be true—but putting himself through school has been a constant battle for him, so the opportunity to make more money while still keeping his same bartender hours was a no-brainer for him. Even still, I was disappointed that we weren’t going to work together anymore.

  But we were good friends and continued hanging out together, along with Pixie, Ethan, and a few of our other friends from school. But Jack and I… we had a connection, from the very beginning. It was like we were soul mates, but not in a stupid, obsessive way. There was no silly flirting, no jealousy, no awkward tension between us. It was always easy.

  Jack and Jenna: friends.

  Jack and Jenna: work buddies.

  Jack and Jenna: partners in crime and late-night tattoo decisions.

  But then one night, everything changed and we became something entirely different.

  Jack and Jenna: drunk and naked in Jack’s bedroom.

  The night started out harmless enough. We were at Jack’s apartment—where he lived alone at the time, since this was before Ethan moved in—and drinking with our friends. I was wearing my colored contacts that night—a blue color that made my eyes look really green—and I was the happy kind of buzzed, not too drunk but tipsy enough to find everything amusing. And I guess Jack was too, because we were the happiest people in our posse.

  Our friends slowly called it a night, one by one crawling back to their homes, until it was just Jack and me laughing in his kitchen as we fed each other carrot sticks.

  Don’t ask me why. That’s just part of being drunk. You do weird shit like feed people carrot sticks like they’re a donkey you’re trying to win favor with.

  The point is we were having a good time. I always had a good time with Jack. He was easy and I was free, and we made each other laugh.

  But then, in my buzzed kitchen silliness, I tripped over his foot and fell into him. My chest sank against his as I lost my balance and stared up into gunmetal-gray eyes alight with laughter. My smile grew, matching his, and then I kissed him. Just for fun. Just because I could. But then I fell into him in a whole different way.

  I pressed my lips to his and our smiles melted into mouths of want, of passion, of things I couldn’t control—things I didn’t want to control. Letting the kiss be my master, I surrendered to the desire inside me and wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders. He took me against him easily, tucking my body into his as he kissed me back with those lovely lips of his. So full and red. So hard when he scowled yet so soft against mine in that moment.

  Jack. This was Jack.

  The reality didn’t slow my passion. If anything, it enticed me more as I lifted up on my tiptoes and rolled my hips into his hot body. It was crazy. It was reckless. It was Jack, for Christ’s sake. But I couldn’t stop, didn’t want to stop.

  So I thought, what the hell? A night playing naked with Jack might not be bad. It could be fun.

  So I pulled away with a teasing smile and walked backward as he tried to reach my mouth again and again. Before I knew it, we were in his bedroom and his lips were on mine again.

  With swift and sure movements, he took my ass and hoisted me into his arms, shoving my back against the nearest wall as he pressed himself between my legs and sucked at my mouth. I was instantly wet and aching, desperate for more touch, more want, just… more.

  I exhaled loudly, letting my hot breath flit over his ear as I tilted my head back for air and exposed my throat. Guys love the throat, so vulnerable, at the mercy of their mouth.

  But instead of kissing along my windpipe, Jack cupped my throat with his hand and held my head to the wall as he continued to kiss me. He pulled at my lips and pushed his tongue into my mouth. My nipples hardened in excitement but my mind whirled, not sure what to make of my neck in his grasp. He squeezed lightly, then ran his thumb down my windpipe. Slowly. Softly. The juxtaposition had me panting and arching my back, wanting more.

  Moving his mouth to my ear, Jack’s husky voice fluttered over me. “Jenna.”

  It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t a statement. It was just my name, on his tongue, and I felt a sharp burning behind my eyes. The sound of his voice in my ear, along with the feel of his hands running over my back and thighs and his mouth kissing at my jaw, tugged at something inside me. Something undeniable, with teeth that sank deep into my emotions and confused me.

  I shook my head away from my name on his lips. I couldn’t have Jack—or anyone—saying my name in the middle of this. I couldn’t be me, fully free, if I was reminded of who I am. Of my flaws and weaknesses. That wasn’t how it worked.

  I ran my hands over his shoulders to his chest, then slid them down to his pants, grabbing at the button of his jeans until it was undone and I could pull open the waistband.

  “Bed,” I commanded, breathless. I blinked away from the haze he’d put me in and stared directly into his eyes. “Now.”

  I was over the up-against-a-wall shit. I had far too little control like that. His hand stayed against my throat and moved upward, forcing my chin to tip backward even farther so I was completely at his mercy. It didn’t scare me or make me uncomfortable, but it cer
tainly made me eager to be on the bed where I could climb on top of him.

  Jack’s eyes traced the lines of my face, warm steel seeing me, wanting me, knowing me. He released my throat and whipped us around, and then my back was on the soft mattress. He reached into the nightstand and quickly pulled out a condom. I took that opportunity to quickly slip out from under his large, eager body and pushed him down under me.

  He smiled up at me. “So it’s gonna be like that?”

  “Shut up.” I straddled him, momentarily jerking as his hardness rubbed against just the right spot, then refocused my attention to his shirt. I yanked it off. Then my shirt. I pulled it away from my body with one quick movement. Same with my bra, then I pressed my naked chest against his as I kissed him again.

  He gripped my hips, hugging my backside against him as we bit at one another’s lips and licked our way around each other’s mouths. It was a feeding frenzy of kisses, our hungers both desperate and unfulfilled. Both too powerful to concede.

  Pulling away, I pulled his pants off his body—he had no underwear on, much to my happy surprise—only to have him grab my waist and pull me up against him, my back to his chest, pinning me with the bar of his forearm. He shoved my pants down until my legs were free then slid his hand down between my breasts, over my belly, and into my panties where he firmly cupped my wetness.

  I bucked against the touch, loving it but wanting more control.

  His deep voice fluttered over my ear again. “Jenna.”

  I whimpered at the emotional tug that hearing my name incited. Hating it. Loving it. Wanting to undo it. I tried to twist around to face him, but he locked me in place, working his fingers over my slippery folds so I was all but immobile. I placed my hand over his with the intention of pulling his delicious touch away from my sensitive areas, but found myself holding him to me more firmly. Wanting his touch to linger.

  Sliding my wetness all around, he found my clit and gently plucked at it. I tipped my head back where it rested on his shoulder and my eyes rolled into the back of my head as he touched me. One of my hands stilled against his, pushing him into me even more while my other hand bent around and grabbed the back of his head. Slipping my hand into his hair, I grasped a chunk at the back of his neck and pulled as he worked me closer.

  I don’t know where my control went, but it was long gone now as his clever fingers slipped inside my core, filling the aching need between my legs. One finger then two, sliding in and out of me as I stayed pinned against him. But it wasn’t enough. I wiggled and moaned, wanting the hard erection I felt at my back to be buried deep inside me. Not his fingers.

  He went back to my clit, rolling over it with the soft, wet pads of his fingers until I was gasping into the dark room. I slid my hand up from his and sank my fingernails into his forearm as he worked me to the brink.

  Then a white-hot orgasm ripped through me, blinding me to everything but his touch as he moved his hand against me and I arched my back, bucked my hips, moaned and whimpered, until I was a complete puddle in his arms. For a moment, I was limp and weak, drained and satisfied, with my thighs trembling and my belly in spasms against his hold.

  It was the best I’d ever felt, but also the weakest I’d ever been.

  Drawing a shaky breath, I whipped around and shoved him back on the bed. Willing myself to recover from the shattering orgasm, I pulled off my soaked panties and straddled him with my jaw locked. Jack would not own me with his hands, his touch, his soft gray eyes looking up at me like he knew I felt something deep… like he knew…

  No. He would not control me.

  Slapping the condom off the nightstand, I quickly tore it open and rolled it over his hard, thick erection. Then I lifted myself over him, placed him at my entrance, and slowly slid down onto him. As I descended, I made the mistake of looking at him and found his eyes watching me with something I wasn’t ready to see. Sure, there was lust in his eyes, there was desire and hunger, but there was also something that couldn’t be—something frighteningly close to love—and I was locked in the hot gaze of it as I connected our bodies and filled myself with his hardness. The moment his erection tapped the back of me, stretching me out and rubbing against every desperate nerve inside my core, I let out a gasp and my eyes fluttered.

  He felt so good. Closing my eyes, I moved over him, up and down, bringing more pleasure to both our bodies and working up a sweat as I sat atop his large penis and rode. He was just a body, I told myself. A hot body. This was just pleasure. Nothing more. No emotions needed to be involved.

  My heart pounded as I tipped my head back, giving in to the lust and animal instinct inside with small moans and light whimpers. Soon, I was just a creature, drawing pleasure from another creature. All was how it was supposed to be.

  But then I heard it. “Jenna.” And the black hole of lust I’d leaped into spit me back out and my eyes flew open. Jack set his hands to my hips and held me in place on top of him, roughly sliding his hand up my spine while at the same time pushing me down to him. When my face was right in front of his, with our bodies still hot and feverish and joined together, his jaw set and his eyes steeled over.

  “Look at me,” he said. His hand wound around my shoulder and took my chin. Gripping it sternly he said, “I want your eyes.”

  My core flexed in desire, squeezing his long erection inside me, and a whimper escaped my mouth. I didn’t want to look at him. I didn’t want to see him. To see Jack.

  Because then Jack would see me, and surely see the emotion I was trying to keep at bay inside me.

  “Please, Jenna,” he said, his raspy voice raking over my mouth as he trapped me in a kiss and pulled at my lips until I was nodding in agreement. Then he released my chin and lips and relaxed his head as I lifted up again.

  Now straddling him with my eyes directly on his, I slowly pulled my core up his thickness then slid back down. And again. He watched me without expression, just his eyes on mine, watching my naked body pull pleasure from his and give that pleasure right back. It was personal. It was intimate. And it was so unfamiliar that I could hardly contain the emotion blossoming inside my soul.

  Trying my best to concentrate on the pleasure, not the sentiment, I gained momentum and rode him more fervently until my hair was a mass of black strands whipping about my face and sweat dripped down my spine. My swollen breasts swung with my movements and I sank my nails into the large pecs of his chest. I was powerful above him, completely in control. A hurricane. A fierce storm. I was the owner of his body and pleasure. I was the queen. I was his master.

  But my eyes stayed on him as promised, and with every stroke of pleasure came another tug at my soul, at that deep dusty place inside me. Until looking at him burned my eyes and choked my throat. As if his hand was against my windpipe again, I couldn’t watch his eyes without suffocating.

  I blinked away the stinging. I rode him like an animal. I moaned. I blinked again.

  “Jenna,” he said, but this time it was a soft word, as he watched my emotions seep through. It was a word of permission and understanding, and it completely unraveled me.

  A single tear fell down my face as I moved above him, followed by another. The emotional thing inside me was now awake and unrelenting, fighting with the beast of pleasure, and losing. I kept my eyes on Jack and he kept his eyes on me, a million silent words between us as tears streamed down my face.

  Somewhere along the way, I’d lost all my control when it came to Jack. But maybe I never had any to begin with.

  Blinking back to the present, I stare at the motel ceiling. So much can happen in so little time. So much can change.

  Turning my head to face the open door between our rooms, I stare across the darkness at Jack. I can’t tell if he’s awake or not, but a small part of me wants to crawl into the sheets beside him. Not to recreate the hot—albeit emotionally confusing—sex we had a few months ago, but because… because… he’s my friend. And sleeping a doorframe away from him feels wrong, which is weird because I slee
p several blocks away from him every night back home in our apartments.

  God, Jenna. You’re so weird. Get it together.

  Rolling onto my side, I turn my back on the doorway between us and let out a long, slow breath. Eventually, I fall asleep to visions of hot tears, slick body parts, and a pair of deep gray eyes sinking into my soul.

  * * *

  By the time I’m dressed and ready to go the next morning, Jack’s already waiting for me at the car with a smug look and a to-go cup of coffee in his hand as he leans against the hood.

  “Told you so,” he says, handing me the hot drink.

  “You were wrong about me not waking up until noon,” I defend. “I actually woke up at 11:35 a.m. So there.”

  “No, I said I’d see you at noon and…” He looks at his phone. “It’s 12:01 p.m. right now.” He looks up. “So yeah. I told you so.” There are shadows under his eyes like he’s exhausted, but his grin is anything but.

  “Whatever,” I mumble, taking a sip of coffee and thanking all the coffee gods for creating this amazing beverage that instantly gives me happiness. I nod at Jack’s empty hands. “Where’s your coffee?”

  Pulling away from the hood, he straightens to his full height. “Unlike you, I woke up at the crack of dawn so I’ve already had three cups and checked us both out of our rooms. You got the keys?” He holds out his hand. “I’ll drive first today.”

  Pulling them from my purse, I place the keys in his big hand and frown. “You couldn’t sleep?”

  Jack might not sleep in the way I do, but he certainly doesn’t wake up with the roosters.

  We get in the car, me in the passenger’s seat and Jack in the driver’s, and he starts the engine. “I slept fine.”

  He doesn’t look at me as we back out of the motel parking lot and I know something’s wrong.

  “Did the stuff with your brother keep you up?” I ask.

  Pulling onto the freeway, we head east. “I told you. I slept fine.”

  I watch him for a moment. “You never talk about your family so I never pry, but you’re obviously stressed-out.” Tucking my coffee into one of the console cup holders, I turn to face him. “What’s going on?”