Since she and Jones moved in with him, Jessica had adopted Luke’s healthy way of sleeping in the nude. He’d been living with live porn. There wasn’t a guy in the world that would not have envied the sight that greeted him every night when he walked out of the bathroom: sexy naked woman on the bed, knees bent, legs spread wide, one hand rolling a nipple between two fingers, the other hand circling her glistening clitoris. Jessica needed sex before she could settle into a good sleep. Luke always obliged her. During the five days of her menstrual cycle, she’d join him in the shower, but never did they go without it.
Until …
“Sex. Fine. I said it. We haven’t had it since the whole Fran thing. You’ve been wearing a full suit of armor to bed every night.”
“A full suit of armor?” After hours of nothing but her side profile as she stared out the back window, because, yes, she was sitting in the back seat with Jones, Jessica relinquished a wide-eyed look in the rearview mirror at Luke. “Your definition of a full suit of armor is a tank top and panties?”
Years of practiced patience and complete self-control had given Dr. Jones the reputation of having an unbreakable focus—until Jessica Day. She could bring Hercules to his knees with words alone.
“Everything is relative, Jessica. So yes, going from masturbating in the nude on my bed to a tank top and panties, curled into fetal position with your eyes closed, would be equivalent to a full suit of armor.”
With an easy nod, lips twisted, she turned back toward the window. “Interesting.”
The steering wheel vibrated beneath his white-knuckled fists. His mother’s keen observation skills would have him under interrogation within minutes of arriving if he didn’t get things worked out in the next five minutes. No pressure.
A mile from their house he down shifted and pulled to the side of the road. Amber eyes met his in the mirror again.
“I’m going to let you drive the rest of the way.” As sure as her naked body distracted him, he knew his GTO would erase whatever grudge she’d been holding.
Luke grinned as she opened the door, but it quickly faded when she hooked Jones’s leash to his collar. “What are you doing?”
“Come, baby,” she said, leading Jones along the side of the road.
“Jess … I’m letting you drive my GTO.”
“Pfft…” she kept walking “…letting me drive down a road that won’t take it out of second gear is a fucking insult and you know it.”
*
Asshole. The good doctor didn’t want to be called Jones. Well Jessica decided he wasn’t worthy of the biblical name, Luke, either. Asshole seemed much more fitting as she walked the last mile to Felicity and Tom’s house. She really hadn’t been mad at him. Luke loved Fran at one time and she knew he loved too hard to just let all those feelings vanish. Four bottles of Heineken proved it. Jessica would never find complete closure while Matthew Green still drew air in his lungs, but Luke could find it with Fran.
However, the humming idle of the GTO crawling behind them … that made her mad. The “full suit of armor” was a sign of respect, an understanding that Luke needed time to work through his feelings about the news of Fran. Sex was Jessica’s drug of choice to drown out painful emotions, but it had always been temporary. She didn’t want to be Luke’s drug, even if he was hers. If Dr. I-don’t-have-to-admit-I-have-human-emotions Jones wanted to psychoanalyze their sex life, then she had only two words: game on.
“Jessica!” Felicity called from the front porch.
Jessica held out her hand to block the setting sun. Jones bucked against his leash, going into his spastic mode. New people with high-pitched voices had him going berserk like a dog on speed. Her arm worked best in its socket so she released the leash about twenty yards from the porch and prayed Felicity was a dog person who didn’t mind the occasional tackle and a lick down equivalent to a carwash.
“Jess?” Luke grabbed her arm before she reached the porch.
She turned, ripping her arm from his grasp. “Asshole.”
Luke sighed. A look of defeat stole his beautiful features. “Please don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t do this in front of my parents.”
“Why can’t we just be ourselves with your parents, huh? Why do we always need a plan or script?”
“We don’t. I’m just saying—”
“Good.” Jessica turned and marched to the porch. “Hi, Felicity.” They embraced.
“Hi, honey. How’s my boy treating you?”
“He’s whining about not getting enough sex and he’s jerking around my emotions for his car … but other than that, I can’t complain.”
“Oh for God’s sake,” Luke mumbled, taking the last step to the porch.
Felicity released Jessica then gave Luke a firm, motherly glare. “Sounds like his dad. When Tom had that car he never let me drive it. Not. Once. And don’t even get me started on the whole sex deprivation speech.”