Second Chance Proposal: A Man Without Mercy / Bring It On / Rancher to the Rescue

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

JACK’S WICKEDLY SEXY smile did things to Vivienne which were even more wicked. It constantly amazed Vivienne how quickly Jack could turn her on. A moment ago, her mind had been focused on what she would say and do at Daryl’s engagement party. A split second later, she could think of nothing but being with Jack, her body liquefying as various erotic images danced in her head.

Time to go to the ladies’ room, she decided, making her excuses just as the waiter arrived with a plate of delicious looking herb-and-garlic bread.

‘Don’t be too long,’ Jack said as he reached for a slice. ‘Or this will all be gone.’

She wasn’t long. Just long enough to cool her overheated body, and to change her mind about going to Courtney Ellison’s engagement party. It surprised Vivienne to find that she cared about Jack’s feelings more than her own need to confront Daryl. She hated Jack thinking that she was using him for revenge. Because she wasn’t.

‘You’ll be pleased to know,’ she said as she sat down again and reached for one of the two remaining slices of bread, ‘that I’ve decided not to go to that party after all.’

Jack did not seem as pleased as she thought he’d be.

‘Oh? And why’s that?’

‘You obviously don’t want to take me. And I don’t want to risk spoiling what we have together.’

His eyebrows lifted.

‘Look, Daryl’s dead and gone as far as I’m concerned,’ she went on firmly. ‘Let’s leave him that way.’

Jack didn’t believe that for a moment. Darling Daryl wasn’t dead and gone in Vivienne’s mind. He was still there, influencing everything she did. His dumping her so cruelly for another woman was undoubtedly one of the reasons she’d jumped into his bed. Maybe not out of revenge, but there had to be an element of rebound in her actions. Okay, so there was lust, too—though Jack preferred to think of it as passion and need. Vivienne was obviously a highly sexed girl who enjoyed making love in all its forms. No doubt she’d always had a very active and imaginative sex life with Daryl.

Damn it all, but he didn’t like thinking about her doing the things with that bastard that she’d done with him!

Still, her being so darned sexy was one of the things he liked about her. That and her undeniable strength of character and courage. If she really wanted to go to that party then who was he to say no?

‘I appreciate your concerns, Vivienne,’ he said. ‘And I love it that you don’t want to risk spoiling our relationship.’ Such as it is, he thought ruefully. ‘But I’ve had a few moments to think about the situation from your point of view and I now believe it would be a good idea to go to that party. Otherwise, you’ll never have closure on the matter. You need to have the opportunity to tell your ex what you think of him. And prove to yourself that you’re not a coward,’ he added for good measure.

He’d surprised her. No doubt about that.

‘Then you’re happy to take me?’

‘Absolutely. Ah, here’s our dinner.’

Vivienne had actually forgotten what kind of spaghetti Jack had ordered, her mind having been elsewhere when they’d first arrived at the restaurant. Fortunately, she was not a fussy eater and she loved Italian food. The plate of spaghetti marinara placed before her was a huge serving, with a wide variety of seafood as well as the fish pieces: mussels; prawns; scallops; calamari.

‘Goodness!’ she exclaimed as she picked up her fork. ‘It’ll take me all night to eat this.’

‘I sincerely hope not.’

Vivienne’s stomach did a little somersault. She knew exactly what he was referring to and the thought excited her unbearably. Dear heaven, she was turning into a sex addict. She had to do something, say something to get her mind off the subject.

‘Jack,’ she said abruptly.

He swallowed a mussel with relish before looking up at her. ‘Yep?’ he said, and dabbed at his mouth with a serviette.

Oh, God. Why did he have to do that? She stared at his somewhat hard mouth and thought of the pleasure it gave her. All of it: lips; teeth; tongue. But especially his tongue. She could feel it now, licking, stabbing, sliding inside her.

The heat her thoughts evoked made her squeeze her thighs and buttocks tightly together. Dear heaven, she almost came then. Putting down her fork, she straightened her spine against the back of the chair, forcing herself to get a firm grip on her wayward flesh.

‘I was wondering if you’d heard anything more about Francesco’s Folly today?’ she asked, always having found work a welcome distraction when her emotions threatened to get out of hand. ‘Do you know when I might be able to move in there and start work?’

‘Good news there. Things should be finalised by the end of next week. You can move in as soon as you like after that.’

‘And my contract?’

‘I’ll draw one up for you before that. Which reminds me—I’ve contacted a builder I know who’s going to do the actual work. He’s reliable and has lots of contacts in the area. Knows all the local tradies and building suppliers. I’ve been wondering, since you’ll be living on site, if you’d take on the job as project manager as well as interior decorator? I’ll pay extra, of course,’ he added, and forked in another mouthful of seafood.

‘How much extra?’

He smiled. ‘Lots.’

‘Okay,’ she said with a shrug which belied her crippling sexual tension. Talking about work hadn’t distracted her at all!

‘Good. Now, eat up. Nothing worse than cold pasta.’

She did her best. But her appetite still lay elsewhere. She watched Jack tuck into his meal with relish whilst only picking at hers. She did eat the seafood, the pasta part remaining untouched. And she did drink the wine. Most of the bottle; Jack told her he never had more than one glass when driving. By the time Jack pushed his own empty plate aside, the alcohol had driven out any feelings of nerves, leaving her with nothing but the most dizzying need.

‘Not hungry?’ he said as he wiped his mouth again with his serviette.

Vivienne swallowed the last mouthful of wine. ‘Not really,’ she said.

‘Do you want anything more to drink? A Cognac? Coffee?’

‘No, thanks.’

He looked hard at her, then nodded.

‘Fine,’ he said, and waved the waiter over.

Five minutes later they were out in the very cool night air, Vivienne shivering as Jack took her elbow and steered her towards the small car park behind the restaurant. His Porsche was parked over in a dimly lit corner, next to a red Mercedes.

‘You must be cold,’ he said, walking quickly.

Vivienne wouldn’t have been as cold if she hadn’t felt so hot. She frowned when he steered her round to the driver’s side into the small gap between the car and a solid wooden fence.

‘This’ll have to do,’ he said gruffly, and pushed her back up against the car door. ‘I can’t wait till we get back to my place, Vivienne. You must know that. Drop that bag and kick off your shoes,’ he ordered her in a low, gravelly voice.

She did so, then stood there, still shivering, with her back against the car whilst his hands scooped up under her skirt and yanked both her panties and tights down in one rough movement. They joined her bag on the ground.

‘Hold your skirt up to your waist,’ he commanded.

She did so, shocked by her blind obedience to him. She heard voices nearby, but she knew she wouldn’t drop her skirt. Not unless he told her to. Which he didn’t. He just stared at her, then touched her between her quivering thighs, pushing them aside, then delving into the hot, wet core of her sex. She moaned softly, then not so softly. Thank God the voices had gone, because the whole world could have come to watch her and she would not have stopped.

She was perilously close to coming when he stopped and dropped to his knees before her. With a strangled cry she spread her legs wider, her knees bending slightly to give his mouth better access to her by then desperate body. The feel of his tongue stabbing mercilessly against her throbbing clitoris was more than she could bear, and she was unable to smother the tortured cry of release which immediately erupted from her panting mouth.

The next few seconds were a blur. Vivienne was thankful for the car’s support or she might have sunk to the ground. She wasn’t aware of Jack’s actions, having squeezed her eyes tightly shut against the shattering storm of her climax. Just when she thought she might live, she felt Jack enter her, then surge upwards. Her eyes shot open and she stared into his flushed face. His eyes were wild, his mouth twisted, the urgency of his own need very obvious.

When he lifted her up she automatically wrapped her legs around his hips, her hands letting go of her skirt so that she could wind her arms around his neck. Her dress fell down over them like a curtain. Not that what they were doing was subtle. Anyone walking by would have known instantly what was happening.

He groaned as he ground slowly into her, his hands kneading her buttocks at the same time.

But she didn’t want him slow. She wanted him hard. And fast.

‘Faster, Jack,’ she urged, squeezing him tightly with her insides.

‘Bloody hell, Vivienne,’ he muttered, taking a bruising grip of her hips before grinding into her with a power which took her breath away. He came almost as quickly as she had, shuddering into her, groaning his satisfaction. Vivienne didn’t mind that she was left still wanting. Jack’s pleasure was enough for her at the moment.

She began to shiver when he lowered her to the ground, the heat of the moment giving way to the chill of the night.

He shook his head at her. ‘We’re mad. You do know that, don’t you?’

‘Yes,’ she agreed shakily. ‘Quite mad.’

‘Anyone could have come.’

‘I didn’t care.’

‘I know. Neither did I. Come on, let’s get you into the warmth of the car. You’ll catch your death if we stay out here.’

‘Well, there’s one consolation,’ he added wryly, once they were under way with the heater going full blast.

‘What’s that?’ she asked somewhat dazedly. She was, quite frankly, still a little off the planet.

‘I had enough of a brain left to use a condom.’

‘Yes. Yes, I noticed that,’ she said. But only after he withdrew. She hadn’t during the act. She’d been off in another world. It was just as well she was on the pill. Being with Jack had made her uncharacteristically reckless. He wasn’t much better. They were mad, all right. Mad for each other. She almost told him then that she was on the pill because of course it would be better, not having to worry about protection all the time, especially if they were going to have spontaneous sex at any given moment. Which seemed on the cards. His desire for her was as strong as hers for him. But being on the pill only protected you against pregnancy, nothing else. She couldn’t see Jack as a man who took silly risks, but who knew?

‘What are you thinking about?’ he asked her when they stopped at a set of lights.

‘Nothing.’

‘Come now, Vivienne, I know you too well. Your mind is never empty.’

She stared down at the bag in her lap which was bulging from where she’d stuffed in her cotton panties. The tights, she’d left behind since they’d been ruined when Jack had ripped them off her. Finally, she looked up and over at him.

‘I was thinking I’m going to go out tomorrow and buy myself some seriously sexy underwear,’ she invented. ‘As long as you promise not to destroy it, that is.’

He smiled a wicked little smile. ‘Sorry. Can’t give you any guarantees on that. You bring out the beast in me.’

‘I do?’

‘You know you do.’

‘You bring out the same in me,’ she admitted. ‘I’m not usually like this, you know.’

‘What do you mean?’ he asked straight away.

Vivienne wished she hadn’t said that. For how could she tell him that she’d never before done a tenth of the things that she’d done with him? He probably wouldn’t believe her. Either that or he’d start asking her questions, questions she didn’t have answers for. She didn’t want to think about why she was so different with him. She just wanted to live in the moment. To say and do whatever she wanted with him. To be wild and wanton and, yes, even downright wicked.

She smiled a saucy smile. ‘I mean, I don’t usually have sex in car parks. But it was fun, wasn’t it?’

His smile was wry. ‘It wouldn’t have been fun if we’d been arrested.’

‘Can you get arrested for that?’

‘I would imagine so.’

‘Have you ever been arrested?’ she asked, happy to change the subject from herself onto him.

‘Not as yet.’ The lights went green and he drove on towards the bridge. ‘You’re coming back to my place for the night, aren’t you?’

‘What...the whole night?’ She hadn’t been expecting that. But instantly, it was what she wanted to do. To sleep with him naked, all night, where she could touch him at will, kiss him all over, whenever and wherever it took her fancy.

‘You have a problem with that?’ he said when she remained silent. Little did he know the thoughts going on in her head, or the instant need gripping her flesh. ‘I could drop you home first thing in the morning on my way to work. You could sneak in like a naughty teenager before Marion wakes up and spots you.’

‘Marion never wakes up till around ten,’ she told him, her matter-of-fact tone hiding the escalating desire firing her blood once more. ‘Not when she’s doing the two-to-ten shift. She doesn’t get home till nearly eleven, and she’s always dog tired. She never knocks on my door till late morning.’

‘That settles it, then. You’re staying the night.’

‘If that’s what you want,’ she agreed, hugging her excitement to herself.

Jack glanced over at her and wondered what she’d been really thinking back at the lights. He wasn’t a mind reader—especially where women were concerned—but he doubted she’d been thinking about underwear shopping.

Vivienne was an enigma all right. Always cool on the surface, but underneath, very hot to trot, a classic case of fire and ice. His stomach lurched when he thought of how she’d urged him on back in that car park.

‘Faster, Jack,’ she’d said in a voice unlike the one she used when working. Or even just now, here, in the car. There’d been nothing cool, calm and collected about that voice. It had been wild!

He felt the sex between them now would be even better, knowing he had all night. He could take his time with her. Make her wait more. Make her see the rapture in elongated foreplay. There was something infinitely satisfying about long, slow lovemaking where the emphasis was not so much on coming but on sensual experiences. He would stroke her back with gentle hands, massage her bottom with oil and caress her beautiful breasts. He would make her sigh with pleasure. He wanted to satisfy her more completely than she’d ever been satisfied before.

‘Now what are you thinking?’ she asked.

Jack turned to smile at her. ‘I was thinking that you don’t need to buy any new underwear. Because, from now on, you won’t be wearing any.’

Her blush startled Jack. Why on earth, he wondered, would the girl who’d just done what she’d just done blush at the idea of going without her underwear? It didn’t compute. She was an enigma all right. A woman of contradictions and contrary behaviour.

Take her apartment, for instance. Why was it furnished in such a stark way when her professional designs were never like that? Vivienne had a reputation for creating warm, comfy interiors which appealed to people. It was why he always hired her to do his show units and villas, because her décor made them sell. There had to be reasons for why she’d chosen to decorate her own place in such a soulless fashion; deep, personal reasons. Jack suspected it had something to do with her family background, which obviously hadn’t been very happy. She’d sounded stressed when she’d talked about her parents. She hadn’t been all that forthcoming, either. Most of the women he’d dated in the past were eager to talk about themselves, launching into detailed life stories without too much encouragement.

Of course, he wasn’t dating Vivienne, was he? He was just sleeping with her. For now, that was. Jack hadn’t abandoned his idea of her becoming his girlfriend for real. He’d just put it on the back-burner for a while.

One day, in the hopefully not-too-distant future, she would see that it would be good for her to date a guy like him: an honest, straightforward, straight-down-the-line type of guy who didn’t lie or cheat and who could show her a good time, in bed and out, without any false declarations of love and till-death-do-us-part commitment. Just the thing she needed after getting tangled up with El Creepo. And, when she finally realised that having an easygoing boyfriend would be good for her—and once she got her trust back in men—he would find out all that she’d been hiding from him.

Meanwhile, he would give her exactly what she wanted. Which was fine by him, because quite frankly, right at this moment, it was just what he wanted as well.