Straight Up Love (Boys of Jackson Harbor 2)

I pull a chair up to his desk, and he sits on the opposite side, propping his chin on his fists and watching me.

“Do you want to share this with me?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I already ate.”

I look down at my food, then up at him. “Why are you staring? Did you poison the food or something?”

He shakes his head. “No, it’s just that you rarely eat my cooking anymore. I thought maybe you’d grown an aversion.”

I snort. “I wasn’t blessed with your wicked-fast metabolism, so I can’t eat your food very often.” I lift the donut burger to my lips and take a bite. My eyes close as I chew and swallow. It’s the perfect combination of sweet and salty. “Dear God, Ellie’s right.”

Jake frowns as he brings his water bottle to his lips. “About what?”

I grin. “She says you put the come in comfort food.”

He chokes on his water. “Really now?”

“It’s orgasmic,” I say around another bite. Because so good. Swallowing, I nod. “I think she’s right. In fact, we don’t need to be awkward about having sex together, because you’ve already cooked for me. There’s no sex act in existence that’s better than your calorie-laden pub food.”

“That sounds like a cha

llenge.”

“It’s not a challenge. It’s a fact.” I shrug. “I’m sorry if that hurts your ego, but the food is just that good.” Leaning across the desk, I hold the burger up to his mouth. “Tell me you don’t think so.”

He holds my gaze as he takes a bite, catching my fingers lightly between his teeth before he pulls back.

A flash of heat whips through my belly, and I can’t take my eyes off him as he chews—the way his jaw works and the movement in his throat as he swallows.

I’m totally lusting after my best friend.

He flipped some switch in me last night, and now I’m seeing him with different eyes. That makes me nervous as hell. I never want Jake to fully understand how bad I am at sex, but if we keep heading down this road, he’s going to. It’s not that I don’t know what to do. I have the mechanics down, thank you very much. I just struggle to stay out of my own head. I can’t give myself fully to the moment—as I demonstrated so awkwardly last night.

I’m still holding the burger between us when he dips his head again, but instead of having another bite, he takes the burger from my hand and puts it on the plate. He holds my hand in his and draws my index finger into his mouth.

I gasp as he swirls his tongue around it and sucks hard. “Jake.”

“Yeah?” He moves on to the next finger, and I hear my ragged inhale, because hell, that’s hot. My insides are melting, and all my blood is in the fast lane to a single destination between my legs. I shift in my seat and squeeze my thighs together. “You have donut glaze all over your fingers,” he says, as if this explains what he’s doing to me. As if it’s completely normal. As if he sucks sugar off my fingers all the time.

“Levi and Colton are racing in Detroit next weekend,” he says. “Do you want to go with me? Watch the race? Go to dinner? Stay in the city overnight?”

“Yeah.” I nod. But I’m not thinking about the race. I’m thinking about the scrape of his teeth on my fingertips. I’m thinking about a hotel room with Jake. I’m thinking of the words he whispered like an oath before leaving my house last night.

When I’m finally inside you, it’ll be because you want me there, because you’re begging to have me there.

I’ll never again be able to take a bite of a burger without thinking about sex. “Will we . . . share a room?” Will we have sex? Will I kill the mood by panicking again?

“Is that okay with you?” He turns my hand and nibbles on my knuckles, the scrape of teeth followed by the hot tip of his tongue.

“Yeah, sure, why not? I mean, it’s not a big deal, and it might be convenient to be in the same room when we . . . I mean, if we . . . I mean, it works, right? I just need to figure out what to pack and stuff. I never know what to wear to those things.” Dear Lord, make me stop talking.

He looks me over, a smirk tugging at one side of his mouth as he drags his gaze down the length of me, as if he has x-ray vision and can see me through the desk and my clothes. “Why don’t you wear those shorts you wear to garden?”

“My old cutoffs?”

He lifts his eyes to mine and gives a cocky nod. “Yeah. I really like those.”

My cheeks heat. Jake and I don’t say stuff like that to each other. There aren’t moments in our relationship when he flirts with me or speaks in innuendo. That’s not the kind of relationship we have. Then again, he’s never sucked on my fingers before tonight either, and I’m not complaining about that, am I? “I’m not wearing my cutoffs in public.”