James was instantly wary. “No. But I do know that when you get that look on your face, it never ends well for me.”
She laughed, alight with a determination he unfortunately recognised, a determination that meant she was plotting. “Come on,” she said, and then she dragged him to his feet.
“You cannot be serious.”
“Oh, but I can,” Nina purred, a wicked smile tilting her lips. James really could’ve done without that smile right now: he was still furious at the shitty police response, and he was incredulous at where Nina had brought him. Add reluctant lust to the list of his current emotions, and he was in danger of getting a headache.
And, much to his shame, a dickache. Because Nina had smiled like that on the day he’d gotten between her thighs, lips curving in pleasure before his tongue slipped inside her and that mouth of hers parted on a filthy moan…
“James?” She patted his arm. “You okay?”
Shit.
Focus, Foster—on something other than the memory of how good her pussy tastes.
“I’m just trying not to stroke out over the fact that you’ve brought me to Bounce Nation,” he scoffed, scowling at his surroundings with a renewed sense of alarm. The children’s amusement centre was located on the top floor of what used to be a lace factory. The brick walls and high ceilings were now splashed in purple and grey alien decor, with netted-off sections of wall-to-floor trampolines and bouncy castles placed all around. On the far side of the room was a concession stand selling radioactive-looking Slush Puppies and rubbery hotdogs. Screaming siblings and balloon-waving birthday parties surrounded them in the queue for Bounce Nation wrist bands, which at least made for a solid distraction from impure thoughts.
“Trust me,” Nina said sternly as she tugged him forward in line. “This is gonna be great.”
“This place is for children, Cupcake,” he muttered, throwing furtive glances around. Could any of these kid-corralling women tell he was lusting after his best friend’s little sister right now? Probably. Mums always knew things. In a second, they’d all start edging away from him like he was radioactive.
“Actually, there’s an adults only section,” Nina informed him with a pert little grin. “Apparently, it’s great cardio.”
“Oh, because we love cardio.”
She stuck her tongue out. “Speak for yourself, James Foster. I’ll have you know I occasionally walk to places, sometimes.”
The unselfconscious pleasure on her face, so rarely seen these days, was mildly hypnotic. James found himself torn between capturing it like the precious thing it was, and letting it soar unhindered like a shooting star. Maybe making a fool of himself on a children’s trampoline wouldn’t be so bad, if it kept Nina in this good a mood.
He wasn’t entirely confident that these things, ‘adult section’ or not, would hold his weight when bouncing around, but… “Would this make you happy, Cupcake?”
She rolled her eyes, but her smile didn’t fade. “I think it would make both of us happier. Endorphins, and whatnot. That’s the point.”
For such a prickly little thing, she sure did seem to care about his moods. “Fine,” he said. “Let’s do it.”
Her eyes lit up, and he was ruined.
“I don’t trust this,” James said in an adorably grumpy tone of voice. A frown creased his brow as he jabbed a foot onto the empty trampoline platform of the adult section. Nina rolled her eyes, forced her thoughts away from the plump curve of his arse in those dove grey trousers, and rushed past him onto the trampoline.
“Come on,” she ordered, sounding militant even to her own ears. “You promised me fun. We will have fun.”
His expression softened into familiar exasperation. “Alright, Cupcake,” he snorted. “Keep your hair on.”
Brattiness always worked with James. Perhaps she should try pouting a little the next time she caught him with his dick out, and he might touch her or kiss her or say her name or—
No, no, no. There would not be a next time, because she had made the mature and adult decision to practice the fine art of staying her arse in bed for as long as she lived under James’s roof. The other night had been…
Well.
But it couldn’t be repeated.
Her heart was about as bruised as her pussy was satisfied. Because she couldn’t forget that James didn’t really want her—not properly. Not in the daylight, not in his right mind. There was no use letting that fact sting. She just had to be a grownup about it and stop leaning into the blade.
But damn, he made it so hard.
James was biting his lower lip in concentration as he strode—yes, strode, with impressive balance—onto the springy platform, his expression as suspicious as his steps were aggressive.
“I don’t think you can dominate the trampoline, James,” she called over the sound of her own tentative bounces.
He looked up at her, dark eyes gleaming as he arched a wicked eyebrow. “Can’t I?”
And God, that gravel voice and that solid jaw, and his shirt sleeves rolled up to expose those thick, tattooed forearms of his… She was dizzy. She was absolutely dizzy. She moved forward, everything about him hooking into her and dragging her closer. He was so goddamn sweet, this man, doing whatever it took to calm and entertain her. Ever since they’d discovered that the address shared as Nina’s… wasn’t, she’d wondered if his protection might disappear—or, at best, fade away. Clearly, she wasn’t in as much danger as they’d worried. But she was still anxious as hell—and without her ever saying so, James had done all it took to support her and keep her steady.
Maybe that was why he’d let them cross the line again, last night. Maybe he could tell she needed it. After all, James was protective enough to take his look after Nina mission really, really far.
She should probably be upset by that idea—that they’d essentially had pity sex. Or therapy sex. Or something like that. But whenever she thought about it, all she could focus on was how horrifically hot he’d looked: sprawled naked on that sofa like a huge, lusty god, his cock thick and near purple in his hand.
He was just as handsome now, too, even fully clothed. Watching her with a fading smile, awareness creeping into his gaze, resistance written in the curl of his fists and the regretful curve of his mouth.
Ah, that mouth. Gorgeous and infuriatingly responsible and so determined to reject her.
“Nina,” he said softly as she approached.
She didn’t need him to finish that sentence. Nina, don’t.
Shoving her clearly unwanted feelings away, she pasted on a smile—as if she could will away this electric tension by wanting it enough. James certainly seemed to think that was possible. “Alright. Time to stop stalling. Let’s do this,” she said, and then she bounced as hard as she possibly could.
Big mistake.
Nina wasn’t blessed in the boob department—hers could best be described as modest. But it became instantly clear that her everyday T-shirt bra wasn’t sturdy enough for the Tits on Tour: Bounce Nation Edition.
Her huge bounce resulted in an earthquake-level boob rebound that practically slapped her in the face. She yelped with more embarrassment than actual pain, grabbed the girls with both hands, then swung stricken eyes to James.