The Right Stud: a sexy romantic comedy Read online

  “Liar. You’ve wanted me since day one.”

  I inhale sharply. “I have not.” Even I can hear how weak that argument is.

  “I’m not an idiot. I know when there’s something going on.” His blue eyes drop to my lips, and his tongue slips out to wet his. My panties ignite. “It’s something I’ve never had before, and I’m not going to let you turn it into a one-night stand.”

  My chest heaves. “Are you saying you want more from me?”

  He cups my cheek as he steps closer. Our bodies are pressed together now, and I can feel his erection against my stomach. I know how long and hard and thick it is, how the veins line the velvety skin, begging for my mouth to suck—

  He cuts off my thoughts. “I’m going to prove you wrong, Ashton. I’m not like your ex. I’m not him.”

  God. His words. He’s saying all the right things. “How?”

  He leans in closer. “Spend the day with me.”

  “And do what?”

  “Fuck?”

  I huff out a little laugh. I like his brutal honesty, and the images it conjures up. “We have work to do.”

  His eyes rake over me, lingering on the deep plunge of my dress. “I can work on you.”

  My legs are jelly. “Right.”

  He curls a hand around my waist and slips it down to cup my ass. “Is Mrs. C awake?”

  I shake my head. The power of speech deserted me at his firm touch.

  “Good. Let’s begin.”

  He kisses me long and hard and deep, his tongue curling and tangling with mine. I hold on to keep from collapsing. His mouth lights a fire I don’t know if I’ll be able to put out. I don’t want to put it out. I’m pressed against the kitchen counter and our lips are ravenous, chasing and clinging. He smells so good, spicy and warm from his bed.

  “I can’t get enough of you,” he murmurs as his hand moves down to lift the hem of my skirt. Within seconds, his fingers have slipped inside my panties, and he’s teasing my clit with delicate brushes before slipping two fingers into my core.

  “Jax…” My pussy clenches around him, and I’m riding his hand, trying to get him right where I want him. It’s as if he knows and deliberately avoids that one sweet place.

  “Spread your legs for me.” His voice is commanding, and I can’t obey fast enough, parting my thighs until his access is unfettered. “Now lean back.”

  I’m panting as I arch my back against the counter and he kisses down my throat, nipping at my skin as his fingers dance across my clit, strumming lightly.

  “Yes,” I moan.

  “You want more?”

  I nod, and he goes to his knees, ripping my panties to a piece of lavender fabric in his hands. I look down, and he’s looking up at my body. His burning gaze flickers to mine. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I want to eat you. It’s all I’ve thought about from the moment I woke up and you weren’t there. I need another taste.”

  Even though we’re in the kitchen in the bright glow of the morning sun, I bask in his words, feeling confident and more alive than I ever have as a woman. Jax Roland wants me desperately. He thinks I’m beautiful. It’s enough to send me over the edge.

  “What are you going to do about it?” I’m in now. I need the release. I fucking need him.

  He gives me a slow smile, eyes heavy with lust. “I’m going to make you come in sixty seconds.”

  “Impossible.” My words are garbled as his fingers move rapidly over my bud.

  “Challenge accepted.”

  My legs spread wider. “Prove it,” I say, feeling more brazen than I ever have.

  “Pull up that dress and hold on.” His gaze is electric as he watches me follow his orders.

  I clutch my hem as his head dips down and his tongue licks my pussy in one long intoxicating swoop, twirling around my clit. My moans fill the air around us. Over and over he takes me, sucking and flicking, his fingertips sending waves of ecstasy through me. He devours me as if I’m his last meal. He’s enthusiastic and loud, and I feel like I might collapse.

  Sensation, warm and wonderful, gathers in my body. My spine tingles and I’m about to combust.

  “I fucking love this,” he says, the scruff on his jaw brushing over my core as his finger slides inside, curling around my G-spot.

  I tense and writhe and hold a hand over my mouth to quiet my involuntary noises. I’m rocking my hips, my body undulating against his face as I come. Several seconds pass as the reverberations of my orgasm slowly fade. Gasping his name, I pull his head up to stare into his eyes.

  Standing, he wipes the back of his hand over his mouth, those magnetic eyes still holding mine, taking in my face, which I know is flushed bright red from exertion. Hair sticks to the sheen of sweat on my skin, and my dress falls from my hands, covering my quivering legs.

  How is it possible he’s still dressed? He grins at me and flashes my panties. “I’m keeping these for payment. Don’t ever leave my bed again without telling me goodbye. Got it?”

  I bite my lip. Damn, I like him all bossy.

  Our chests heave as we stare at each other, and the moment feels important. It feels momentous. I gave in to him. I think I want to do it again. Soon. Maybe in the next five minutes. I eye the kitchen table and imagine him behind me, his long cock sinking into me, hard and fast. Shit.

  Mrs. C waltzes into the room, and Jax and I both jerk to a halt. She’s humming, “She’ll be coming around the mountain when she comes…” and my eyes are huge. Jax gives her a quick look before stuffing my underwear into his pajamas pants.

  Mrs. C comes to a halt when she reaches us, her eyes bouncing from me to Jax. “Are you two going to move so I can get some coffee or what?”

  I clear my throat and step to the side, grabbing a croissant and holding it out to Jax. “Here you go, all warm and toasty just like you asked. Don’t forget the jam!”

  My voice is unnaturally high, but damn if I can help it. He takes it from me, a bemused expression on his face. He doesn’t look embarrassed one bit.

  “…when she comes…” Mrs. C sings as she pours creamer in her coffee.

  Good lord. Did she hear us? Again? Mortification flies over me. I hope not. Because what we did sure as hell had to be a health code violation, and if I’m serious about running a B&B, I have to stop having orgasms in the kitchen.

  I clear my throat. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to head upstairs for a bit.” And put on some underwear.

  Jax grins. “Me too. Guess I need to get dressed if we’re going to paint the porch today.” He runs his eyes over me lazily, a gleam there. “You might want to put your work clothes on.”

  I give him a quick nod and dash up the stairs ahead of him. Am I doing the right thing here? Am I really going to give him a chance? God, I don’t know what I’m doing.

  Sixteen

  Jax

  “Need more paint?” Ashton’s pretty hazel eyes blink up at me, and I glance over my shoulder, taking in the white tank top and tight denim shorts she’s wearing.

  Her brown hair is up in a messy bun, as usual, and my lips curl in a grin as I think back to last night when I’d wrapped that hair around my fist, pulling it, making her call my name—more than once.

  We were fucking incredible together in the sack. I’ve known we would be from the moment I saw her at that stupid bar, from the moment our lips met and undeniable attraction blazed between us. Something about her pricks at me, digs under my skin. She brings alive every fucking molecule in my body, and it’s all I can do not to pull her close and plant a kiss on her full lips right now.

  I’m also not an idiot. Or maybe I am. Fuck, I don’t know what I’m doing encouraging this thing between us. I just know I can’t resist her, and I can’t see any harm in following this through to the end.

  I think back to when I’d woken up this morning and realized she’d left me. Me. She’d snuck out of my room without even a howdy-do—something that has never fucking happened to me before. Usually, I’m the one
saying goodbye. Hell, at least I say goodbye. She didn’t say a word.

  Disappointment, irritation, and possibly desire drove me down the hall to her room, where she was not. I threw on a pair of flannel pajama pants and made my way downstairs, and the rest is history. I wanted to be angry with her, but when I saw her, all the bad feelings flew out the window.

  I watched her making coffee, a worried expression on her face, and I knew I was the reason for her worry. Something shifted inside me—something weird and strange and completely new. I wanted to prove to her that I’m not like her ex. I’m not a cheating, lying asshole.

  She’s still waiting, her brow crinkling in a frown. “Jax?”

  “Sure,” I say, taking a few steps down from the stepladder and walking over to her. “Give me some more paint.”

  The camera is off, and she places it on the worktable. We’re taking turns filming as we paint the new boards and crown molding around the floor, ceiling, and corners of the porch. We’ve been working since around eight this morning, and we’ve gotten excellent footage.

  I think about the morning sun casting Ashton’s curves in glowing light. I think about the curl of her dark hair falling lightly onto her cheek, the way she pulls a pouty lip beneath her teeth as she paints, and I grin. It’s possible some of my video of her is on the more “artistic” side of the home renovation spectrum.

  In other news, we took a break to help Mrs. C get her paints and easel set up on the beach. We’d also managed to get a humane animal control company to come and help us with the now-full trap I’d set yesterday evening for the skunks. Those stinky squatters have been successfully relocated, hopefully somewhere far, far away. In any event, the chicken wire is in place around the problem areas beneath the porch, and I don’t see critters being an issue again any time soon.

  Still, if I think about it, wasn’t it the skunks that brought us together? Damn. Who would have thought that a brush with stink would lead to us screwing around?

  “What are you grinning at?” Ashton says as I approach her.

  I didn’t even realize I was smiling. “You about ready for lunch? I could really use some alone time with you.”

  There. I said it. I want her again. My cock is already hard.

  Her eyes dart from me to the house to the beach where Mrs. C is. “Uh, maybe we should go out?”

  I nod and lean closer. “Afraid to be alone with me in the house?”

  “Of course not.” She swallows, such a terrible liar. “I just thought you… and I… might like a change of scenery.”

  I glance down at my clothes. There’s not much paint there because my painting skills are sharp as hell, but it’s enough. “Sure. Let me change, and we can go.”

  “Fine.” She clears her throat. “Want to meet me in say twenty minutes?”

  “You’re welcome to come upstairs with me if you want.” My hand curls around her neck, and before she can protest, I press my lips lightly against hers.

  She inhales and freezes for a moment before her mouth melts into mine. Then we’re kissing harder, longer, our breaths mingling together, hands grasping.

  Pulling back, I stare down at her. “I’ve been wanting to do that since this morning.”

  She blushes. “Me too.”

  Heat zips through me. “I’m serious. Let’s go to my room. Or yours. I can’t get enough of you, Ash.”

  Her eyelashes flutter. “I like it when you call me Ash.”

  “Yeah?” I’ve backed her into a corner of the porch away from the prying eyes of Mrs. C. “I can call you that while I fuck you. Something like, Yes, Ash. God, yes, Ash…”

  “Fucking teenagers! Fucking!” comes from the open window as Rufus glares at us.

  We both startle and then laugh. I glare daggers at the red and blue macaw as Ashton pulls away from me. “That bird is a real buzz-kill.”

  She smiles. “Let’s do lunch in town. It’s been a while since I’ve gone to certain places because of all the gossip. Maybe it’s time I showed them I’m doing just fine.”

  Her cute chin lifts defiantly, and a fierce, protective pride warms my stomach. You bet I’ll help her show those assholes she’s doing fine. She’s doing more than fine.

  I tip my ball cap at her. “It’s a date.”

  Seventeen

  Ashton

  Jax wheels his shiny gray Audi S8 up to the curb, and it comes to a stop.

  “Don’t move.” He gives me a wink before hopping out, and I squeeze my thighs together, watching the way his dark jeans hug his tight end as he closes the door and rounds the front to help me out.

  “Such a gentleman.” I grin, taking his hand.

  I pulled on a short red wrap dress with tiny white polka dots and a cute ruffle around the hem before we left the house. The neckline is a plunging V, and the way Jax’s eyes darken as they trace the swell of my breasts makes my entire body heat right up. I’m also wearing slip-on wedges so my red toenails peek out. I can’t forget all the things he said yesterday, including loving my bare feet.

  “Where to?” He pulls my hand into the crook of his arm, right next to his round bicep peeking out from the tight short sleeve of his forest green polo shirt.

  “It’s been a while since I’ve been to the Silver Spoon.” It’s a cute little high-end bistro for ladies who lunch and their boyfriends (or husbands, I guess).

  We stroll up to the bright yellow cottage with boxes of wildflowers along the white fence and at the windows. My chest squeezes in nervous anticipation. I expect at least a few of Palmetto’s biggest gossip hounds to be present.

  “Welcome to the Silver Spoon. Just two today?” The perky blonde hostess picks up two menus as I nod. “Right this way.”

  The white-covered wooden tables are close together in this converted old house, and with a stab of shame, I see one group includes the mouth of the south herself, Rayleen Jennings and my nemesis, Monica with the good veneers.

  I hold my head high as we pass the table of four women, but of course, the hostess stops at the small two-seater right beside them. “Your waiter will be right with you.”

  I’m momentarily paralyzed, but Jax’s warm hand touching my lower back as he holds my chair helps me get myself together. Thankfully, he’s facing their table, and I’m pleased with the way he keeps looking at me like I’m going to be the main course again. Still, I can’t lean into it. Even though Jax is ten times the lover Kyle ever was and twice as handsome, residual shame and embarrassment hold my stomach in a tight fist. I’m sure I won’t be able to eat a thing.

  “Hello there, I’m Oliver. Can I start you out with drinks?” A young man in a long-sleeved polo with a white apron around his waist smiles expectantly.

  “I’ll have a glass of prosecco.” I want to ask for a double shot of Grey Goose, but I’m afraid that will give me away.

  “Whitehouse IPA for me,” Jax says.

  My hands are in my lap, and I notice they’re twisted together. I force them to relax as Jax’s phone buzzes. He lifts it, and the smallest frown tweaks his eyebrows before he silences it and returns it facedown to the table. Our eyes meet, and he grins, leaning back for the waiter to place our drinks in front of us.

  I want to ask if everything’s okay, but he lifts his glass. “To progress.”

  “Progress.” I clink his glass and take a long sip of sparkling wine, hoping it’ll kick in fast.

  Behind me the low murmur of female voices grows slightly louder, and I hear Rayleen’s rise above the rest. “I suppose that’s one way to meet a man. Open your house up to boarders.”

  The implication in her tone makes my blood race, and I take another, longer sip before returning my now almost empty flute to the table.

  Jax’s blue eyes are on me, and my nose wrinkles when I hear Monica’s breathy reply. “What would her grandmother say?”

  My teeth clench, and I’d love to tell that bimbo exactly what my grandmother would say to her cheating, fiancé-stealing ass.

  Jax leans closer, studying my
face and no longer smiling. “Do you know those women?”

  Blinking rapidly, I force a smile as our eyes meet. “Only for about fifteen years.”

  Oliver cuts in before I can elaborate. “Have we decided what we want?” His voice is perky, and he holds a small black book. “Our special of the day is the old-fashioned chicken salad with grapes and pecans. It is delish.”

  “I’ll take that,” I say quietly.

  He grins, waving his hand, and his cheerfulness eases the tension growing in my chest. “I’ll have that right out for you. And another prosecco?”

  I smile up at him. “Yes, please.”

  “And for you sir?”

  Jax is frowning at his menu. “Got anything for a man on here?”

  Our waiter’s eyes dazzle. “A man, you say? How about a good pork… tenderloin?”

  I snort, finishing off my sparkling, and Jax narrows his eyes at me. He grins up at Oliver. “Sure, bring me the pork tenderloin sandwich.”

  “You got it, big guy.” He takes our menus and folds them together. “Don’t worry, mama, I’ll have that fresh prosec right out with your salad.”

  A wink and he’s gone, and I feel like my rear shield has left me… which is funny. I start to laugh again, and I realize I might need to slow down on the wine.

  Jax leans back in his chair, his blue eyes sliding over my body. “I’m still sorry we didn’t stay at The Conch for lunch.”

  “And miss out on the pork?” I can’t resist teasing him.

  “You wouldn’t have missed out.” His cocky grin makes me cross my legs.

  Leaning forward, I drop my voice. “You would have given me some pork?”

  He laughs, and the low vibration does funny things to my stomach. “A full seven inches.”

  My core clenches at the memory. “Bad boy.”

  “You know it.” His eyebrows arch over sparkling, sexy blue eyes.

  I feel all warm and buzzy. I want him to laugh. I want to show those jealous bitches behind me how much fun I’m having with my male boarder.