JAKE'S BAILEY

CHAPTER 9

 Bailey woke up with a grin as the night's details seeped in. Automatically she reached over to the other side of the bed. Her eyes snapped open and the smile faded as her hand landed on an empty pillow. Something hollow and ugly settled in her stomach. There was no sound coming from the bathroom. And no, he wasn't standing at the window being creepy by watching her sleep. She sat up, her gaze searching for his underwear on the floor. Those, too, were gone.

Jake had left.

He turned back into a pumpkin.

Why did her heart ache at the realization? They hadn't talked about what happened next. They hadn't even planned on sex. At the most, coffee then a kiss. She pulled the covers up feeling so cold. She'd let him in and then he'd left. The hurt was too raw to touch. It was so much easier to cling to anger.

"Well," Jake said, strolling through her bedroom door, "that's not a good face to have after sex. What happened?"

She screamed, scared shitless. He held up both arms. One hand was empty and the other held a bowl. "What the fuck, Bailey?"

"Oh, my God. I didn't know you were here. Wear a bell or something."

He put his free hand to his chest. "I woke up and really needed something to eat then I remembered you had ice cream."

She pressed her palms to her face. "Sorry."

"I'm coming over to the bed." Her mattress shifted. "I'm sitting on the bed."

Bailey dropped her hands to glare at him and that was easier to do than to acknowledge the relief. He hadn't left. "I am going to thump you in the forehead."

"Sadistic. Not my kink, but I'm willing to give it at least one try if that's what gets you off." He offered her the bowl.

She took it with a soft thanks. "I see you found the maraschino cherries." He'd littered the top with at least six.

"My sweet tooth wasn't satisfied, apparently."

She didn't have to look at his face to know exactly what he was talking about. Although she wanted to run with the light mood, she couldn't shake the emotional roller coaster.

He narrowed his gaze. "This might be the first time where your every emotion isn't on your face. What's going on, Bailey?"

She ate some ice cream instead of answering right away. Of course, he waited. There was only one thing in his life he avoided like the plague.

She handed him the bowl. "The last thing I want to be is a cliché after really good sex."

"I see," he said. "Thoughts about what we're doing? Regrets about jumping into bed with me so soon?"

"I thought you had left without even saying goodbye or thanks for the orgasm."

"Then let me make a few things perfectly clear. I enjoy the fuck out of your company. Even if I didn't, I wouldn't sneak out. That's not me. Lastly, you were naked. My dick would have strangled me if I tried to leave."

Could gruff be sweet because she was starting to think it was possible? "Okay."

"That reminds me."

He reached over to the nightstand. She didn't see what he grabbed until he dropped his cell phone into her lap. Confused, she tapped the screen awake. He just shook his head while eating the ice cream. Bailey now understood why he had chickened out earlier from showing her the picture.

It was a professional family portrait. Who she could assume were his mom and dad looked like the average white-bread middle class parents. His brother Benjamin looked super preppy, but he wore a smirk like "my parents made me wear" this.

Then there was Jake. He'd dyed his hair and eyebrows pitch black. The back portion had enough hair spray to kill at least two rain forests a day. There were chains, buckles, boots and the obligatory leather pants.

She coughed to hold back the laugh. "So, there's Playful Jake. Date-mode Jake. The factory setting of Grumpy Jake. I will now add Goth Jake to my mental list."

"But are you surprised I was an emo teen?"

Bailey bit her lip, really hard before she could say, "You make so much sense now."

He sighed. "Let the laugh out. You're going to give yourself an aneurism if you don't."

Bailey tried. Really, really she did try not to laugh. "How old were you?"

"Thirteen." He sighed again. "I think I still have some of the poetry I wrote. 

That did it. She lost it. Took her a minute to calm down to giggles. "It is and isn't the goth part."

"I know." He took the phone back then tossed it on the nightstand. "The funny part is the family photo is like the Munsters in reverse."

"And the hair."

"And the fact that it's me. For the record. I didn't dye my eyebrows. That's all eyeliner, baby." He put the ice cream bowl on the nightstand next.

When he stood and took off his underwear, her laughter faded. Just that quick, an ache grew between her legs. Her heartbeat kicked up as longing and excitement fought for top billing.

He slid back into the bed, under the covers. She reached out for him, a thoughtless reaction, but how could she not touch him? His skin beckoned with its warmth. And then a thought skittered along her mind. She smiled.

"Oh, shit," he said. "I now understand what you mean by a twisted smile." His eyes were bright. "What torture do you have in mind?"

Bailey dropped her hand to his dick then caressed it with her fingertips. He went from half-mast to full within seconds.

"Oh," he said.

She stroked him next, loving the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. When her fingers reached the base of his cock, Bailey kept going until she could cup his balls. She waited a breath then squeezed.

"Fuck," he groaned.

She massaged the warm flesh. "I only have one question right now, Jake."

"Anything. Ask me."

Her smiled widened. "Fast or slow?"