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“Especially since you kissed her already.” The air deadens. I’m motionless. Can’t be surprised she told them. Not when I already told Banks.
“For practice,” Jane reminds them. Farrow pops a bubble in his mouth. “Is that what Cobalts call it?” Jane knots her robe tighter. “We call everything what it should be. An orange is an orange. Your eyes are brown, and a practice kiss is simply a practice kiss.”
“So,” she says, “you three are the most important people in my life right now. My best friend.” She waves to Maximoff. “My best friend’s fiancé.” She waves to Farrow. “And my bodyguard—bold-hyphenation fake boyfriend.” She smiles at me.
Maximoff interjects, “We need to talk alone.” He’s staring right at me. I don’t hesitate. “Alright.” “Right now.” He’s already putting away the straight razor. “Moffy,” Jane warns. “I thought we just said—” “This isn’t a wedge,” Maximoff cuts in quickly, wiping off his jaw. “I just need to clear some things up with Thatcher.”
I keep going. “I knew if I asked Donnelly to run a 19k, he’d do it backwards, blindfolded, crawling on the fucking ground. The hardest thing for him isn’t physical or mental exertion in harsh conditions—it’s being told to sit down and eat celebratory pancakes knowing Farrow is about to go bust his ass in the pitch-black night.” We were seeing if Donnelly would complain. If he would ask or fight to be with Farrow. Spend two seconds back-talking, and that’s two seconds you’re not paying attention to what’s important.
I still remember my line of sight. Zeroed in on the target. As soon as I took the shot, Farrow came out of nowhere and cold-cocked him. The taser hit my guy instead. It was one of the worst days of my career.
Omg
“I fucked it,” I tell Maximoff. “I thought I had the shot.” “So it wasn’t on purpose?” There’s a lot of earnestness in his voice. Like he wants to believe this version of history. “I’d never purposefully tase one of my men like that,” I say sternly. The thought actually sickens me.
“About Jane.” Maximoff changes the subject. “I just want you to know that I’m appreciative of what you’re risking for her. It’s not a small thing, losing your privacy.” She’s worth it. “She’s my client,” I tell him.
“How do we know he’ll tip off the paparazzi?” Thatcher unbuckles his seatbelt. “Because he’s broke and his nickname was Snitch in high school.” “Does he realize he’s called Snitch?” “Yeah,”
Thatcher studies my shallow breathing. “Ready?” I eye his lips. “Yes please…” Oh God, Jane. “Just yes. Yes, I’m ready for you…” I have torched myself with flaming balls of desire and mortification. There is no escape.
Lol
ache for even more. In places that shouldn’t be aching. I think Thatcher can read my need too well. “One more,” Thatcher says huskily. Our hands are still on each other, and his other palm has found a home on my hip. Mine are woven in his hair. “One more,” I agree. “Just in case they didn’t catch the photo.” His gaze already engulfs me. “Yes.”
“That was very good? We did well?” I question. “Security said chaste and that was the virgin strawberry daiquiri of kisses, no? I could’ve easily straddled you—not that I would’ve, because boundaries.” I flush but never divert from his tightened eyes. “It was good,” he confirms. “But it wasn’t a virgin daiquiri.” I, so eagerly, want inside his head. “It was a dirty martini?” I swear his lip tics upward in a momentary smile. “More like a Guinness.” It’s his favorite beer.
I understand why they’re up my ass, and if I were a lead, I might be doing the same thing. Karma—it’s rolling in like a fucking tank, for all those times at the FanCon that I used to yell at Farrow. Telling him to separate from Maximoff.
“And tell Thatcher to put his dick back in his pants and start using the right goddamn head.” Akara quickly decreases the volume on his phone. Banks tries not to laugh—until
“Which headline is true? Should I be invitin’ her down soon?” my mom asks, humor in her voice. “She’s got Nicola’s approval already, but you know Nic would bake the devil a pie. It’s why I love her.” Nicola is her wife, my stepmom. “And your grandma is already crocheting Jane a scarf for Christmas.”
I turn to Akara. “What’s the word on Grandmother Calloway?” The last we’ve heard from her, she cancelled her afternoon tea. She didn’t even call or text Jane. Just let her assistant email her. Letting her know that under the circumstances with the current headlines, an afternoon tea with potential suitors would be inappropriate.
“Do we have eyes on their grandmother?” I ask, opening the fridge. “Twenty-four-seven,” Akara confirms. “You can thank Jane’s dad for that.” Connor Cobalt.
I hand her the extra beer I grabbed. Her lips rise. “Thank you.” Maximoff and Farrow aren’t staking glares into me. They’re just eyeing me closely.
It’s eclectic and gorgeous and I’m immediately in love. “This okay?” Thatcher asks, closing the door behind me. “More than okay.” I place my suitcase near the foot of the bed. “It’s like someone dug around in my head and this exploded out of it.”
His biceps seem to flex. “Not a high probability.” “No?” I hang on the edge of his words. “If I put my cock in your pussy, there’s a hundred-percent certainty you’d orgasm in my arms. More than twice.”
Our gazes draw to the mattress at the same exact time. We’re thinking the same thing, most surely. Our eyes catch again. Thatcher releases his clutch off the headboard. “We don’t have to take our clothes off.” I nod heartily. “Dry humping, I agree.” “Enough to make you come.” Holy… I nearly fall into his arms right there. Legs weak, body shuddering. “Yes,”
I lean against the headboard. “We don’t have to leave all of our clothes on…possibly? We’re two mature adults. You’re twenty-eight. I’m…good ole twenty-three.” I did not mean to draw attention to our five-year age gap. But there I go.
“You ready?” “I am,” I say, very assured. I am so ready for him. He reaches back and grabs the collar of his black shirt. He yanks the tee off over his head.
Omg
nice. Our lips naturally drift closer. “Jane,” he says, deeper and deeper. He is making love to all four letters of my name. Eight hard inches inside one syllable. We kiss a soft, short kiss. Testing the waters. I pant. “Kissing…and dry humping, they can pair well together.” He’s near my lips again, and I add, “Like peanut butter and jelly.”
“Just rip it,” I say, breathless. Thatcher grabs at my collar with two hands and like the fabric is made of paper, he tears my shirt into two pieces. Oh… My… I think my heart just came, if hearts could cum. Mine just did.
I’m about to touch myself. In front of him. Is that out of bounds? Is that an overstep? “I need…” He unbuttons my jeans. He unzips me. “Yes,” I gasp. “Yes, please, please.”
“Change of plans.” I nod in agreement. Our eyes say the same exact thing. We need more. We want more.
“Jane.” His chest is taut in need. “I want to put my cock in you.” I clench around his fingers. “I want you to.” Thatcher has a choice to make, and he does. “Fuck it.” He eyes me strongly. “I’m fucking you.”
Omg
His shoulders tighten, head almost tilting back. “Fuck.” He cups the back of my head. I’m about to shift my finger closer to his hole. He obviously feels where I’m going, and as Thatcher catches my eyes, he nods me onward. He even says, “Go ahead.” Have I found my perfect match?
“I’m curious. How do you know I haven’t…taken something as big as you before?” “The way you were staring at my cock said you haven’t.” I smile softly. He can read me so well. But that is known.
We shower together in the attached bathroom and have sex again. It has nothing to do with this op. Nothing to do with the task at hand. No one can hear her gasps and high-pitched moans or my deep groans with water pouring. That’s fucking clear to me. It’s been clear to me that we’re kerosene together. And we’ve finally lit the match. In my head, there’s no going back.
Omg yessss
“I’ve never reached that orgasm with a man before. Always just myself. Same with the A-spot, which is…” Her voice tapers off as curiosity glimmers her eyes. “Do you know what it is?” I do. Intimately. I reach over the bed and take the damp towel out of her hand. “It’s where I push my cock towards your belly button.” In front of her cervix.
Don’t nuke it, man. “So you don’t regret anything—” “Not at all,” she interjects, eyes widened. “Do you—?” “No.” I shake my head once. Say more. “Given the same choice, I’d do it all over again.” She smiles, one that reddens her cheeks. “Me, as well.” Good
He’s also more professional in front of the families. Which I used to be. Until now. I fucked my client. Should regret that—I don’t.
All of them had a hand in saving her family. I explain one detail further to Jane. How security learned that Farrow asked Oscar for a needle decompression kit to help Maximoff. No one but Oscar would’ve known what Farrow was requesting, and time had been critical.
“You were with me that night, I remember. And Moffy needed the best to survive, but I needed you.” She sits up straighter in a jolt. “Professionally speaking. On a professional level, I needed you—and I also…I also still need you, which is also to say that you’re vital to me. Professionally.” Her eyes are huge. I nod a few times, my chest rising. “I didn’t want to be anywhere else that night but next to you.” I push myself to add, “As your bodyguard.” Jane taps her pen to her notebook. “So we’re in agreement that you’re the best bodyguard for me…”
Im a little confused lol
“I suppose the idea that this was a one-time occurrence is weighing on me. I’m not used to one-night stands.” Her eyes drive into me, my chest burning. Fuck. “That’s not what this was,” I say and rub my lips. “That’s not what I wanted it to be.” I hate that what she thought we did here was something like a one-night stand.
again,” she realizes. “You want to take that risk…But if the Tri-Force finds out you’re having sex with me, they’ll fire you. Correct?” “Correct.”
She begins to smile more brightly. “It seems we are dreadfully tangled, you and I.” Couldn’t agree more.
Nice title wor
When we were checking out, I caught Oscar telling Thatcher, “Heard you almost all night. Incredibly believable.”
Lmao cause it wassss
Every night since the Bed & Breakfast, Thatcher has snuck out of security’s townhouse and into my room.
Omg
“How dangerously close am I to his bumper?” “A few inches.” He extends an arm over my seat and assesses our surroundings. “You’re still good, honey.”
Woah homey
His attention is plastered to the street. “Jane, brake.” “Merde.” I slam on my brake. Thatcher plants a firm hand on the dashboard. I brake too late, and I crunch into Maximoff’s bumper. Both of our cars jerk forward from the light impact.
Lol omg
“Oh my God,” I keep unhelpfully repeating, and I try to peer at the damage of Maximoff’s Audi. I use a phone voice-command. “Call Moffy. I can’t believe I rear-ended my best friend—”
Lmao omg
“Totally shattered like a regular Humpty Dumpty,” Maximoff says with complete sarcasm. “I think I died back there.”
Lmao
wolf scout.” “Or maybe we all just died, and we’re in purgatory.” Farrow lets out a short laugh. “Or maybe you’re just a dork who wants to spend purgatory with me.”
He scrutinizes me. “I’ve never seen you like a guy this much.” I send him a furtive look. “It’s just physical attraction.” Maximoff gestures towards our bodyguards while he speaks. “Gawking at Thatcher, who looks like a six-foot-seven version of Jon Snow after he killed White Walkers and made friends with wildlings—that’s physical attraction. Liking when a guy calls you honey is…” He scrunches his face. “I don’t know what it is, but it’s not physical.”
“Thatcher is also what?” Maximoff picks out a spiked brown leather jacket. I try to recover. “He’s also exceptionally sweet.” “Jesus, that is nowhere near physical attraction.” He motions to me. “You’re supposed to be light-years smarter than me.”
As he nears, he’s only staring at me. “Thatcher,” I greet, a smile playing at my lips. “Jane,” he says huskily, looking into me with open-booked desire. In public. It’s not only allowed, it’s encouraged.
We’re not glancing in that direction just yet, and I whisper, “We’re selling this well.” Another small smile tugs my cheeks. “It’s like we’re partners in crime, you and
