I glare at her. “Teeks, if you don’t get the fuck away from me right now, I’m going to hit you with my cast. It’s heavy and it’ll be painful.”
“I’m just saying.”
“You’re moving out and not giving me any notice and now you want to do a three-way with my father’s best friend! Get out of here! I wish you’d never come home!”
She steps closer, jamming her finger at me. “You’re such a biatch, Marion, you know that? It’s why I don’t care that I’m leaving you high and dry.” Her finger zigzags through the air. “Total fucking bee-to-the-ahtch!”
A knock turns our heads.
I jump up. “Go away!”
“Maybe I’ll just answer that,” she smirks, and breaks into a run. In my current condition, she wins.
Which really goads me.
I’m the one who wins!
I am!
But lately?
Not so much.
Jack is standing on our shoddy welcome mat in suit pants and a white button-up shirt, no tie. The top two buttons are open revealing his hot tribal tattoo crawling toward his thick neck on the right side. The sexy strings of slender beads-and-leather necklaces he always wears, betray his inner rebellion to the business attire. And life.
He’s staring at my roommate with the seriousness he is known for. She’s floating so high she can’t feel his gravity.
But I can.
I feel it in every cell.
My memory didn’t exaggerate his sex appeal.
As she reacts to his undeniable gorgeousness, Jack’s eyelids go heavy like he’s weighing a problem he doesn’t know how to solve. I don’t blame him for looking annoyed. She’s clearly high. Is that what he’s thinking?
“Marion,” he growls as if he wishes Teeka would go away.
She glances to me and back to him, wipes her nose, and says, “I don’t know if you want a threesome, but I’m down.”
I’m not horrified easily. But this is Jack! He’s like a god in my mind, and not just because he looks like one.
I can’t speak.
He saves me by chuckling, “I remember the last time I did cocaine. I was about your age and I said stupid shit back then, too.”
Teeka’s neck rolls. “Stupid shit?! Listen, Marion’s dad’s best friend, or whatever the fuck your name is, I’m totally sober. I just woke up and I had a lot of coffee, is all.”
He gives a demeaning smirk as his eyes flick to the heels she dropped on her way in, then to the keys, and back to her. “Does coffee leave white powder on the little baby hairs under your nose? And I’m guessing those come-fuck-me pumps are yours.”
She flips him off and storms off to her bedroom, throwing me a last look. “What an asshole.”
That leaves me alone with Jack.
My father’s hot pal.
The man my mother eventually hated.
Because he saw through her.
But now he’s looking right through me.
“Hi Jack,” I whisper.
He tips his head. “Marion.”
Clearing my throat, I offer, “Would you er…like some coffee? Real coffee, I mean. Not the white kind.”
“I’d love some.” He shuts the door.
Chapter Four
Jack
Did she have to wear those silk shorts? A dancer’s body is a work of art, sculpted from years of intense control. I can’t help but look at her legs, even with one in a cast, and wonder how they’d feel around my neck.
“What happened here?” I grunt, trying to keep my cock from waking up. “That why you called?”
Long eyelashes float down, and she stops hobbling to the kitchen. Her fingers glide up the naked skin between her shorts and where the cast ends. “Oh this? Yes, this is partly why I called.” Her hands fly to cover her beautiful face and she begins to weep.
I take her in my arms in what I’m hoping is a paternal embrace. Or at least a friendly and not you’re-mine-now-forever primal one. “Hey hey, Mar, shhh…I’m here.”
She weeps, “I lost my big break, Jack!” really letting loose. I’m a little stunned by the outburst. It’s not like her. But then again, I’ve been out of the loop. Her shoulders are quivering, body melting into my hard muscles like she’s made of liquid. “I was the lead in a musical at The Alliance. Then this happened! I might never dance again.”
“Don’t say that,” I rasp, silently cursing her out for smelling so damn good. “You’re not a quitter. I’ve never known anyone as bullheaded as you.”
She rewards me with a laugh, but it disintegrates into tears immediately. Pulling back, Mar looks up with these huge, tear-filled, doe-eyes. I don’t think there’s a prettier girl in Georgia. She’s got one of those heart-shaped faces with full, pouty lips she didn’t pay for. Her eyelashes are as long as my cock. Okay, not that long. But I can’t stop thinking about my cock so it’s the best comparison I’ve got.
“I’m not a quitter!”
“I know you’re not.”
She glances to my lips. “The doctor said I have brittle bones.”
“Since when?” A frown deepens. “You’ve never broken a bone. Not that I can remember. Have you?”
Shaking her head, Marion sniffles. But she’s staring at my mouth and I really need her to stop doing that. “No, I haven’t, Jack. Isn’t that crazy? They said I’ve been lucky. Can you believe that?”
“They tested your density or something? How the fuck do they know?” I’m getting irritated and not only by stupid doctors putting ideas into her head that could weaken her personality. “Don’t listen to them. You’re a fighter. Always been one. Always need to be one. Hell, I remember you telling me off when I tried to get you to stop playing with Barbies when you were eleven. Remember that? You nearly ripped my head off.”
She smiles, red eyes drying a little as her sadness simmers down. “You told Dad I was a bitch.”
A laugh breaks out of me and I lean back on her counter, putting some blessed distance between us. “Didn’t know you heard that.”
“I heard it,” she smiles with pride. “And I didn’t mind if that means strong and won’t take shit from a guy like you.”
My eyes drop to her braless tank. Those nips are saying hello and it’s hard not to wave back. “You were too old for Barbies.”
She bites her lips in the sexiest way as her eyes flicker on a thought. “You like my shirt, Jack?”
Holy shit. My cock just knocked at my pants, saying, lemme out!
“Now, Marion…”
Like she’s not sure she should, Mar breathes deeply in, knowing that doing this will make her breasts rise and come closer to me. “Yes, Jack?”
“Fuck me,” I groan, casting my gaze to her tile floor. Do they even clean this place? I’ve had enough women in my life to know that she’s coming onto me. Doesn’t she know what this would do to her father? I don’t care about Lorraine, but David would fucking kill me if I touched his little girl.
But she’s not little anymore, is she? At five-eight, her body a study in perfection — save for the broken leg — and a spark in her eyes that says she’s no virgin and wouldn’t want to be one, my best friend’s daughter is all grown up.